


It's Oddly Beautiful

by naty_fangirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adult Content, Adultery, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bipolar Disorder, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Blackmail, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Character Death, Coming Out, Cunnilingus, Demisexuality, F/F, F/M, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Forced coming out, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hate Sex, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Making Out, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Miserable Ending, Misgendering, Multi, No Fluff, Oral Sex, Overdosing, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Pedophilia, Pictures, Rough Body Play, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Schizophrenia, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Teen Angst, Triggers, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 03:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 70,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14370225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naty_fangirl/pseuds/naty_fangirl
Summary: Nixon Farely is fine, he's perfectly fine.  Sure, he's a slut, and basically spreads his legs out to any man (or woman) that comes his way.  At least, that's what Cheshire always says, so it must be true, she never lies."I'm fine," I close my eyes tightly, and turn away from them.  I can't let them worry about me, I don't deserve it.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a dream that Katelyn has months before the whole book transpires. With time, she will forget it, but once the time comes, she'll wish she hadn't. She'll regret everything.

The world seemed to slow to a stop as everything fell into place. Lights seemed to flash around her, refusing to conflate as the rest of her surroundings seemed adamant on doing. Someone screaming orders over all the noise as suddenly, everyone unfroze and sprang into action; paramedics started flooding the house as everyone else scrambled to get out of the way. A dry sob escaped her throat when she finally felt her back meet the wall and she slid down, defeated and dazed. How could this happen? Why? She tries to act surprised as a dry laugh rips itself from her throat, it’s not funny, it’s exactly the opposite, so why is she laughing? She doesn’t know. 

When the white static that insists in calling itself noise reaches her ears, she finally notices the fact that there are people around her, paying her attention as though she was important. ‘Stop looking at me! It’s not me that’s there in the ambulance, so why are you looking at me?!’ She feels herself compelled to scream this as someone attempts to grab her arm and she rips it away, don’t they understand? It’s not me that’s dying.

Something happens, maybe she blacks out, maybe she dissociates, but no more memory from that warm-turned-cold night can be found.


	2. Nixon Farely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the main character, Nixon Farely. Shows the reality in his life and the differences between his outward "social" interactions and his internal thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> \- Self-Esteem Issues  
> \- Talk about masturbation  
> \- Slight talk about suicide  
> \- Promises

_“In a city of fools, I was careful and cool_

_But they tore me apart like a hurricane”_

   Nixon blinked a few times as he realized he’d already missed a few lines of the song while he closed his eyes and dozed off a bit.  He’s been like this all weekend, cooped up in his bed in only a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie.  He’s just now aware that his phone has probably been ringing already for a few minutes constantly, but it was in his night stand and the thought of having to roll over to pick it up exhausts him. 

 

A groan escapes him as he hears the phone start off again, and after willing himself to _just pick it up_ , he succeeds and manages to turn his body to pick up his phone just as it stops ringing.  When Nixon manages to clear his eyes enough to actually read the screen, he winces, 12 missed calls from Jamie, _Ugh, she’s going to kill me._   Biting his lip, he reads over the messages she’s left him, starting from cute to passive aggressive, to just down right violent.

**3: 45pm**

**Jamie:** _Babe_

**3: 45pm**

**Jamie:** _Nix, guess what!!!_

**3: 50pm**

**Jamie:** _…_

 

**4:05pm**

**Jamie:** _Its been a while… r u still busy?_

Nixon kept scrolling down, he winced as the messages stopped being concerned and started getting passive aggressive.

 

**4: 20pm**

**Jamie:** _Istfg, if I find out ur ignoring me deliberately, ill come to ur house and kick ur ass._

Nixon sighed and shoved his head in the pillows, telling himself to just call her even if it meant he’ll have to feed her lies about how ‘Yes, J, I _swear_ I ate today.’ and _‘_ No, of course I haven’t been in bed all day, it’s just that I was feeling tired and decided to take a nap.’  Nixon hates lying, but the mere thought of having to concern Jamie with his unimportant problems doesn’t sit right with him.

 

He held the phone to his ear, closing his eyes and resigning himself to the category one-thousand storm that was abut to rain on is already rained-on parade. 

 

_“Nixon Farely”_

He winced.

 

 _“Do you mind explaining to me why the actual fuck you didn’t answer the goddamn phone, like, I understand if you don’t want to fucking talk, we all get like that sometimes, but just answer a fucking text, I was fucking_ worried”

 

Nixon sighed and closed his eyes, listening to his girlfriend talk on about how she was worried something had happened to him.  He rolled his eyes, knowing fully well that if he rolled his eyes with her around, that would’ve earned him a well-earned slap.  Nix just doesn’t understand why J’s always saying she’s worried about him, when _obviously,_ he’s fine.  So what if he’s been more tired than normal lately, the teachers all think that they’re the only ones he takes classes from, when in reality, he takes up to 8 classes a day, each one contributing to his endless headache.

 

_“Are you even listening to me?”_

_“Mhm”_

 

A small smile forming into his lips as he imagines her curly hair wrap around her face in the cute bob she’s keeping it in right now and her cute small smile with her slightly uneven teeth and thin pink lips.  A frown present on his face as he hears Jamie sigh, his mind conjuring up the image of her face whenever she makes that noise; her mouth pursed in a straight line, her brown disappointed eyes staring at him from under furrowed eyebrows.

 

Nix inhaled deeply as the thought of her being angry with him entered his mind and suddenly, everything around him was _crashing_ , feeing as though a huge wave of _something_ crashed into him, knocking most of his breath from his chest.  He felt the heavy weight of guilt in his stomach and felt the insistent need to apologize for just about everything.  He _needs_ to apologize right _now,_ before he fucks something else up and this becomes irreplaceable, he can’t let her break up with him right now, she’s the only thing keeping him together, if she leaves nothing will make sense anymore, he’ll be _alone._ Words started spilling from his mouth before his brain could catch up, too many thoughts clouding up his judgement right now.

 

 _“J – Jamie, I – I’m so sorry, I was sleeping and – and just everything’s too much and I’m_ so _tired that I’ve just been listening to All Time Low in repeat and I – I just spaced out and didn’t realize the phone was ringing, I’m so sorry.”_ Mortified, he realized that his eyes were starting to get blurry and wet, having to strain himself as to not let any tears fall, because that’s just pathetic.  He can just imagine her words if she knew he’s holding back tears right now _‘Nixon, what the fuck’_

 

Somehow, her silence made him even more anxious, something in his mind telling him that ‘No, Nixon, you fucked up, this is finally it, she’s finally fed up and going to break up with you,’ He tried to mask a whimper by coughing, ‘Don’t be surprised though, you deserve it, she’s always so nice and you’re nothing but an asshole about it, you don’t deserve her, you don’t deserve anything.’

 

Dimly, he could hear the slightly worried tilt of her voice, but he was so trapped inside his head that the only things coming through were his own intruding thoughts.    

 

_“Nix”_

_“Nixon!”_

_“Y-yeah?”_

_“I’m not mad at you, not really, I was just worried ‘cause you’ve been off lately and I thought something had happened to you.  If anything, I’m sorry, I was the one who should be sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you when I knew you’ve been feeling off lately.”_

‘Great going asshole’ he thought bitterly.  Getting up slightly in his bed, he adjusted his pillows so that he was leaning against the head board comfortably and hugging his body pillow tight to his chest – which, contrary to his friends’ believes, no, he didn’t use it to masturbate, it was too precious for that – and sighed as he realized how stupid he’s been, ‘see? Now you made her apologize when she was right for yelling at you.’

 

 _“No, yeah, it’s fine, I shouldn’t’ve freaked out like that, I’ve just very tired between all the assignments and not being able to sleep enough lately because of all the stress, I’m fine though.”_ he had to suppress a chuckle at his mediocre attempt at sounding put together, knowing full well that she could tell that he was lying.

 

_“Well…ok, if you’re sure, but this conversation isn’t over, I just thing it’ll go better if we talk in person tomorrow, by the way…”_

Nixon closed his eyes and rubbed a hand down the side of his face, grateful that Jamie had at least let the topic go, even if he knew that she’s probably find a way to bring it up later and make him talk. At least, she’s not making him talk about it right now, because in all honesty, he was too tired to deal _and_ talk about emotions in a day, let alone less than an hour.

 

 

A few days later finds Nix being rudely woken up by his demon sister, Katelyn.  The funny thing is that they’re basically identical in appearance, but as similar as traditional Chinese and English.  In appearance, they were both of normal height for their age, him pushing the 5’ 8”, just not quite there yet.  They both had their slightly almond shaped eyes (who is he kidding, their eyes are Asian, it’s just that he feels better by calling them ‘almond shaped’), black straight hair and lithe bodies.  The only difference, apart from Nix being male and Kate female, is that somehow, through the weird and diabolical things called genes and bad luck, he manages to get the blue eyes both his grandfathers and his father have.  Normally, a person would be happy about having blue eyes, because what’s better than being white and all, but, it just made him look fucking _weird._ Like, no, Asian people should have brown eyes for the sole fact that it makes them look freaking _cute._ But _no,_ he had to be that weird fuck that somehow exists.  Not to mention, his uncle always said it was _Nixon’s_ fault for having his father’s ‘beautiful blue eyes’, if it weren’t for his eyes, his uncle would’ve never…No.

 

Cutting that toxic train of thoughts off, he rolled over in his bed and squished his face into his bed, trying to ignore his sister’s demonic screeching.

 

“Nixon! Wake the fucking hell up, we’re gonna be fucking _late,_ and I have practice.”  Nixon rolled his eyes at her futile attempt to sound grown up by cursing, like, no, stop, it only makes you have less credibility, but whatever, that’s just his opinion.  Plus, she’s eighteen and a senior, so according to dad’s rules, that makes her mature enough to curse – I don’t know either.

 

Through pure will power and a promise of black coffee from his father downstairs, he manages to get up to shower.  When he enters the bathroom, and takes off his clothes, he turns around, subjecting himself to the disgusting view that is his body. He’s looking at himself in the mirror, distaste becoming evident in his expression as he hastily turns away and opens the shower curtain, getting inside and sighing contently at the feeling of warm water cascading down his body.

 

When he dries himself off and does his daily face washing routine to prevent him from getting the worst (not really, but still) case of acne, because no, not everyone’s blessed with perfect skin.  He runs to his bedroom and grabs his favorite pair of jeans for school today, they’re light blue and ripped, him combining it with a wine colored baggy sweater, because man, it’s February and still freezing.

 

 

“Dude, so you’ve _seriously_ never been caught masturbating?”

 

How does one resist the need to smash their face into the nearest wall until passed out?  With a sigh that probably shook the earth itself, he just shakes his head, seriously, how is this even something to talk about?  Because, if he’d ever been caught masturbating, he’d make sure to dig that memory deep in those archives of his mind, never to be brought up again, not brag about it in front of his friends as if it _was_ something to brag about.

 

 _“How?”_ he tries to not let his annoyance show on his face as ne of his friends, Matt, looks at him as if he was an alien from freaking Mars at the thought of him not being caught masturbating with someone. 

 

“I don’t fucking know, I just haven’t.  Maybe if you actually knew how to do it when your family isn’t up and going around your house y’know, like a normal family in the _day_ , then you wouldn’t be caught doing it constantly.”  He throws his sandwich down on his plate, not hungry anymore.  He isn’t sure why he’s not hungry, usually he’s ready to eat, but he hasn’t had his usual appetite for a few days now, maybe he’s coming down with something.

 

“Well, _excuse me_ for having needs, Mr. Celibate” Nixon watches as Matt folds his arms around his chest in what he probably thinks is supposed to be a haughty way, but only makes him look like a child throwing a tantrum, not that he’s ever tell him, because that’s not what friends are for…yeah, let’s go with that.

 

“Do you even know what celibacy means, asshole?”  Oh, his angel has come rescue him.  Nix can’t help but smile as he looks beside him and seed his beautiful girlfriend.  She looks beautiful, her ripped blue jeans and beautiful flowery shirt making her brown skin look ethereal, at least to him. 

 

“Hey, J” as he says this, he can’t help but reach over and kiss her cheek, sure that if she could, she would be blushing right now.

 

“Hey yourself” a little giggle leaves her lips as she says this. 

 

“Oh, fuck you, Jamie,” they both look over at Matt whose words don’t seem to be matching his expression, which is open and smiling, probably because he’s weak in the face of cute couples.

 

Whatever retort she was going to sat got cut off, signaling the end of lunch.  He’s not going to lie, he still had to rack his brain to remember what class comes next, though when he remembered, he wished he didn’t and groaned, _ugh, physics._ Jamie laughing at him from beside him not making him feel better, although the reminder that she _does_ take this class with him makes him feel better, she’s good at it and wouldn’t feel _too_ annoyed if he needs help with a formula or just plain out understanding all this unnecessary bullshit.

 

Entering the class with the rest of the students in a stampede, gives him a slight feeling of vertigo which he still doesn’t manage to shake off halfway through the class, _shit._ He manages to catch part of what the teacher is saying, his mindless droning not letting him focus enough on his voice to actually pay attention.

 

When the teacher finally ends up the discussion about something angle, wind resistance and velocity doing whatever or something mass of – he has no idea what the fuck the teacher said these past thirty minutes.  He faintly remembers Mr. MacPherson (no, he isn’t related to Spencer MacPherson from Degrassi [they asked], but he _is_ very handsome) touching all the topics he mentioned earlier but, fuck him, he can’t remember what the fuck they have to do with each other or what the hell the assignment was.

 

He decided to do something more productive than looking out the window of his classroom like an angsty teenage protagonist of an anime, and leaned over to whisper at Jamie: “um…J, what exactly am I supposed to be doing?”

 

“Finding the angle with the formula in page 67” without looking up from her own notebook, she probably said it in the simplest way she could, which was awesome and all, but, these physics books his school owned explain as good as a KKK explains his love for whines, it just makes no sense whatsoever. 

 

“Ok, thanks…”  while reading through the page, not only did he realize that he was not getting this, but he was _so_ going to fail this class, shit.

 

He tried to imagine himself as a physicist and the only thing that would come to his mind was: “What angle do I need to throw myself off this building in to make sure I die when I hit the bottom?”  He snorted at his own words and almost choked when he saw the two girls in front of him and Jamie staring at him with their mouths open, _what the fuck is up with them, geese._

“What?” – Nixon couldn’t help the snort that escaped him at the hilarity of the statement and their faces – “It was just a joke.”  As Nixon sobered up from his quiet laughing fit, he pretended not to notice Jamie’s constant glances his way through the rest of the class, while he tried and somehow managed to find a way to do the problem, though with his luck, it was most probably completely wrong.

 

When the bell rang, Nixon sighed heavily and practically ran out of the classroom, with Jamie hot on his heels.

 

“Hey, Nix, what the fuck was that, are you having your emo phase late or something?” Nixon tried not to frown as she snorted, _laughing_ at him, he was trying to calm himself down because he _knew_ he had no right to feel angry (he didn’t even know what he was feeling angry about).

 

“No, no, the thought just popped into my mind and sounded to hilarious that I started laughing, honestly, I didn’t even realize that I said it out loud.”

 

“Hm” Digging his nails into his palms helped keep him grounded in that second, making all his inappropriate feelings fall back because if anyone deserved an angrily crying Nixon, it definitely wasn’t Jamie, she didn’t deserve to have dumped on her his confusing bundle of feelings.

 

 

When school was finally over, he walked home with Matt, both being neighbors ever since Nixon moved to Florida when he was 10 or so because his parents separated and his dad felt like he needed a new scenery that wasn’t located in New York.

 

“Dude, so how’s it going with Jamie?”  Nix was ripped away from his thoughts and looked over at Matt who had his hands deep inside his hoodie’s pockets and was smiling that ‘I’m all for gossip’ smile.

 

He chuckled at his best friend’s expression before talking “she’s great – we’re great.  We’ve had a few arguments recently, but nothing we can’t work through, most of them start because of me though” He had to bite his lip hard to stop a choked sound from escaping his mouth, _damnit,_ why is he such a failure?

 

“Well, every healthy couple needs some arguments once in a while right?” At the tone he used, Nix looked up at him curiously.  Matt looked as though he had other things to say, but, didn’t know how to address them.  At least, this is what Nixon assumed was happening with his friend because whenever he saw that face, it was what was usually happening.

 

“You know you can tell me anything right?” He tried to sound comforting when he said it, and judging by Matt’s expression, he _sort of_ succeeded.  But, since teenage boys always need to be awkward and insecure with _something_ , he added “I won’t judge you unless I absolutely _need to.”_

This made Matt snort and shake his head at his best friend’s ‘sarcasm.’  Reaching Nix’s house, they decided that Matt would stay a few hours today until his parents arrived at his home (like they did every day unless homework was a bitch [because Matt’s ADHD sometimes required him to study alone because people around distracted him, even though he distracted himself alone, he said it was easier to study if he did it alone] and they decided to study separately).  Matt’s parents always arrived at their home around 7pm, which gave them a few hours to talk and catch up on whatever gossip they might’ve heard that day, because guys are just basically closet teenage girls.

 

Finally, having raided the kitchen enough, they took it to Nix’s bedroom and laid down on his bed after they agreed with a mischievous look at each other, that they would watch reruns of Gotham because ‘why not?’

 

“So, what was it that you wanted to tell me?”  Nixon tried to wait, he really did, but between his curiosity and Matt’s distracted face worrying him because it wasn’t his ‘My pills are wearing off, so I’m distracted at everything and I _can’t_ focus’ no, it was more like, ‘I’m way too serious, I drank my pills and they aren’t wearing off yet but I still have no idea how to tell you this even though I’m a good eighty seven percent more focused than I normally am’ and Nixon wasn’t really used at seeing this look on his usually happy and easy going friend, so to say he was worried was an understatement.

 

Nixon looked at Matt, his concern growing every second, this was just so different.  Matt was hunched over in the bed, hugging himself, and chewing at his lip, now red and raw.  He looked about to cry and Nix felt at a loss; deciding to comfort him with his words, and not his actions, because he knew how Matt could get if someone touched him when he was sad without his permission to do so.

 

“Matt, whatever it is, you can tell me, I won’t judge you, you know I’m not that kind of person, you can tell me, come on.”  To say Nix was surprised when Matt dove at him and hugged his middle wouldn’t do justice to what he felt right at that moment, but he still didn’t push Matt away, because he knew he needed to be comforted and he wasn’t about to deny him that.  Nixon pushed Matt’s slightly longer than normal bangs out of his face, kneading his fingers through Matt’s hair, trying to coax him into talking, or at least to calm down, because his breath was suspiciously sounding like he was hyperventilating.

 

“Nixon…can you promise me you won’t be mad?”  Nix closed his eyes a little at the broken tone in Matt’s voice.

 

“Yes, I promise”


	3. Confessions and lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings  
> \- Coming out  
> \- Talk about homophobic parents  
> \- They/them pronouns (genderfluid character)  
> \- Dude-bros  
> \- More talk about masturbation  
> \- Lies  
> \- Actual Masturbation  
> \- Realization (bi-awakening)  
> \- True feelings  
> \- Suicide idealization  
> \- Thoughts about suicide  
> \- Slight hints at depression

After my promise, I realized I had no idea what he was about to tell me, I couldn’t very well promise that I wouldn’t get mad.  I felt my eyebrows furrow, concern filling me up as a heavy and defeated sigh ripped itself from Matt’s throat, him closing his eyes and biting his lips.

 

“I’m…genderfluid”

 

After the confession, I had to fight myself to school my face as to only project a little bit of my shock.  I know what genderfluid is, and I’m not disgusted or anything asshole-y like that, I’m just shocked because I literally had no idea.

 

“I – I mean, it’s just I’m a boy, I mean, I’m physically and biologically a boy, but I don’t necessary feel like a boy, but its not like I’m a girl either, I just feel in between, ok?  I understand if – if you want me to go, I’ll go, I’m sorr- “

 

All of the shock I felt, was ripped away by a wave of guilt that crashed through me as Matt started sobbing, his/their? chest heaving with the beginnings of hyperventilation.  I finally got out of my own head as Matt started getting up from the bed, red and blotchy face making them(?) look on the verge of a panic attack.

 

“No” even I was shocked at my loud tone, looking apologetically at Matt, I took a deep breath and tried to organize my thoughts in what probably were 0.002 seconds.  “Stay, I’m not mad or disgusted, I was just shocked, not because of anything bad or anything, I just honestly had no idea, but you don’t have to go, come here, let’s talk.”

 

After a little bit of prompting and reassuring from my part, I managed to get Matt back on the bed next to me, Detective Gordon’s voice on the background familiar enough to be comforting.

 

“Do you want me to address you by another name? Maybe by they/them pronouns?  You tell me, I’ll respect all of your decisions with how to be addressed and just, everything, really” I tried to sound comforting and reassuring, because I didn’t know from experience, but coming out to anyone, much less your best friend about your gender identity must be horrible.  With that thought in mind, I smiled at Matt, hopefully letting them(?) know that whatever else they(?) wanted to tell me, I would listen and follow their(?) every choice to the best of my ability.

 

“Yeah…I feel comfortable with they and them and…no, I like Matt enough, so I’ll keep going by Matt…thank you” That’s when the dam broke again, and tears fell down Matt’s face, this time more because of relief than anything else.

 

“Of course, stupid” they both laughed at this “you’re my best friend, I’d be a pretty shitty best friend if I didn’t accept you” At this, both of them smiled at each other.  To say the conversation ended there would be a lie bigger than Russia.  We kept talking and I tried to pay rapt attention to Matt, making sure his happy demeanor wasn’t a façade; t it seemed real enough. 

 

“I told my mom and after a whole shit-load of explaining, she accepted me, but we both decided to wait until after I graduate to tell dad, because one) he doesn’t live with us anymore and two) he’s a raging homophobe”  I nodded at him, from what I remembered of Matt’s dad is that he wasn’t a religious homophobe because he was atheist, he just plain out hated gay and trans people (including everything in between and outside of the gender and sexuality identity spectrum), so it made sense that they wouldn’t tell him.

 

“Anyhow, I’m proud of you for telling your mom, and me.”

 

 

To say that Matt’s been ecstatic since they told me would not be an exaggeration.  They’ve been smiling basically ever since and randomly hugging me with rambles of how thankful they are.  Until now, I can’t say I’ve never misgendered them, but most of the time its that I’m around other students, our friends, and one or two times that I accidentally said ‘he’ and _then_ noticed.  In all honesty though, now I barely have to think about it and say ‘they’, the problem now is accidentally calling Matt ‘them’ in public and telling everybody without Matt wanting them to know. 

 

Right now, though, is one of those times I must mis gender Matt because we’re around all our dude-bro “friends” from the football team that we somehow acquired through me having a hot girlfriend (whom I love very much), and them just following her around because – I’d rather not think about it.

 

“So, like, Hailey from the science club has a totally sweet ass, too bad she’s a nerd” one of the dude-bros, Wyatt, said, making all his dude-bro friends snicker around him as if they were a pack of dogs, like, seriously, where do they get all their lines?  Frat boy movies?

 

Jamie and Matt, who were sitting at either side of me simultaneously rolled their eyes, I didn’t even have to look at them, I could feel the sass from a mile away.

 

I really didn’t understand how they could have one-night stands and just not care, whenever I was with Jamie I could feel my love for her overflowing and I still don’t think I would be able to have sex with her.  Maybe it’s just me that’s broken, or weird, or something, but whenever the mere though of sex with her crosses my mind, I just feel uncomfortable and I’m pretty sure it’s not her because she’s beautiful and I don’t mind making out…it’s just sex that makes me shaky. 

 

I’ve been meaning to Google this, because from whatever fanfictions I’ve read because of Jamie and Matt, teenage boys are basically the same as Alpha males close to an omega, only that teenage boys don’t have the pheromones and ‘sweetness’ to blame.

 

Plus, I’m probably the only boy that masturbates as unregularly as me, like, what the fuck is up with these other dude-bros plus Matt doing it two times a day, every day?  I’m baffled.

 

That afternoon, while all three of us are walking towards Jamie’s house because we need to make a ‘project’, the same subject comes up.  (Why?)

 

“Once, about three or four years ago, when I was twelve, I’d found one of my brother’s porn magazines, but you see, it had lesbian pictures in there, and since at that age all of us girls are questioning ourselves because ‘There is no way I’m expected to marry one of _those_ repulsive animals’, I was experimenting a little bit, when suddenly – “

 

Both Matt and I were staring at Jamie bewildered as she almost fell on the sidewalk from how hard she was laughing.  I had half the mind to apologize to the innocent bystanders that were looking at us, probably wondering if we forgot to put Jamie in a straitjacket before leaving the house.  ‘No, my unfortunate peers, she’s a free crazy.’

 

“Omg, ok, so, there I was, with my hand inside my pants and with the magazine in my other hand when suddenly my brother bursts into my room screaming about something and then we just stare at each other, my tomato-red face glaring at him until he slowly closed the door and _bolted._ ”  At this point, all three of us were laughing pretty fucking hard, the occasional bystander giving us curious gazes but going unnoticed by all of us.

 

“We never mentioned it again and I’m pretty sure he thought I was a lesbian until I started going out with you, Nix; now I’m pretty sure he just thinks I’m bisexual.”

 

Ok, nobody can really blame me for asking the next thing, “Are you?”, but in my defense (not really), I realized what I said after it came out (he he), thankfully she only laughed.

 

“No-“she shook her head slowly, a pensive look in her eyes “I mean, I only find guys sexually attractive at this point, so either I’m straight or haven’t had my ‘bi-awakening’ yet”

 

Ah okay, made sense.  I just hope that if Jamie ever has her ‘bi-awakening’, as she called, she isn’t afraid to tell me.

 

When we finally arrived at Jamie’s house, we entered the relatively small, but homey house and took off our shoes at the entrance breathing in the slight smell of cinnamon.  Whenever I came to visit, I was always shocked at the small house, with Jamie’s dad being a child psychologist and a psychiatrist at the nearest hospital and her mom being a surgeon as well, it didn’t make sense.  Now, after gaining enough confidence with her parents a few months back (enough for me to ask, anyways) I know that the amounts of money they save by having small house, they use it to take trips whenever they take long vacations, which makes sense, but still doesn’t convince me.

 

“Hey guys” I turned around to see Jamie’s mom, she’s a beautiful woman, her brown skin a few shades darker than Jamie, but their faces nearly identical, only her mom’s is obviously more worn down from long years of hard work and little relaxation.

 

“Hey Mrs. Kyle, nice to see you again.”

 

“Hey Mom”

 

After exchanging hellos and listening to the always-there but forgotten words of “How many times do I need to tell you to call me Jennifer?” We walked further inside into the living room where I sat down on the couch and Jamie, obviously, threw herself on top of me.

 

“Off!  Oh my god, woman, get off me!” This having worked for nothing, I tried to shove her off, ending up with her clinging to me like a koala, Matt being no help at all, only laughing harder when I looked at them for support, some best friend I got, letting me die under this woman’s weight.  Don’t get me wrong, she’s not heavy and I’m not calling her fat, it’s just generally uncomfortable to have someone on top of you, and no matter how light they are, it’ll be _uncomfortable_ , and being crushed while bones dig into your body is not cute.

 

“Okay, okay, you weakling” When Jamie finally got off, I basically just died and fell on my back into the couch.  I always forget how comfortable these couches are, because their appearance makes them look as though they’ve passed a few wars but still made it, with a _lot_ of scratches, but made it.  At that point, I’m just basically snuggling one of the cushions and listening to Matt and Jamie talk while ignoring my existence.

 

“So…I’ve been meaning to tell you something…I already told Nixon, so I guess you are the next step.”  This made me perk up, opening my eyes to look at the scene before me.  Matt had their hands shoved into their oversized hoodie, making them look cute and cuddly; a blush was adorning Matt’s cheeks, their eyes cast downwards.

 

“Okay…what it is?” Jamie was a whole other story, her eyebrows furrowed in a slight mock of concern, but her eyes jumping curiously from Matt to me and back to Matt, me shrugging at the question that hung in the air, if Matt already said they were going to tell her, then wait for them to tell you, I ain’t forcing nobody out tha closet.

 

“So, um…Ok, I’m just going to say it, I’m genderfluid and prefer they/them pronouns, if you don’t mind, I mean, I won’t _force_ you, but I’d appreciate it – “

“Shut up, Matt, of course I’ll refer you to your preferred pronouns, I’d be a monster not to”

 

This made Matt sigh, their expression softening into a smile. Suddenly, Matt threw themselves at Jamie and hugged her, both falling into the carped, laughing at having fallen from the couch.  I, of course, snorted gracefully (yeah, right) and felt myself smiling at their antics, I’m so glad they’re my best friends and not those dude-bros.

 

A little while later in the afternoon, when Matt’s cousin came to pick them off (Matt was staying at their aunt’s for the weekend), Jamie and I moved to her bedroom – with the door open, dad’s rules – and started cuddling while watching ‘Fairly Odd Parents’ reruns, us laughing at jokes that were not child appropriate, but also slight enough as to not be noticed except by dirty minded teenagers such as ourselves.

 

“So, what’s up with you lately, Nix? You’re different.”  It took me a while to process the question, when I looked up from snuggling into Jamie’s stomach, confusion probably noticeable in my eyes, because Jamie sighed and sat up a little, me pouting, because contrary to other parts of Jamie’s body, such as her bony arms and knees, her stomach is cuddly and warm.  Plus, as weird as it may be, the sounds of her heart beating and the sounds her stomach does calm me down - I don’t know why either, it just does.

 

“What do you mean?”  I sat up as well, knowing this was turning serious, and fast.

 

‘Well…you’ve been sort of distant lately.  Sometimes, I see you read the messages and didn’t answer, and I know that isn’t something ‘wow’, but you always at least sent an emoji, now you’re just silent and withdrawn somedays and other days, you’re all hyped and I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem…natural, you know?  All of us have good and bad days, but yours are extreme sometimes and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but, I have and I’m worried, sometimes you just stop and look so _empty_ , it worries me.” When she finally said all of this, a deep breath escaped her, as though a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.  Her face looked so worried and I don’t really understand _why_ , so what if I always show my emotions to the extreme? That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me, it just means I’m expressive or something, but there’s _nothing_ wrong with me, I’d know if there was.  I’m such an asshole, making her worry over nothing at all, she shouldn’t be worried over me when I’m perfectly fine, but here I go and fuck up, _again._

 

“Um…okay, I’ve just been stressed a lot by a bunch of things, my mom recently contacted my dad that she wants to see Kate and me for Spring break and then there’s Mr. McPherson’s class that just makes me want to jump off the school building or something every time the bell for his class rings, and sometimes I just feel like I need a break, so I’m _sorry_ if I don’t feel up to answering a text, I just need my space, ok? And – “Something in her expression changed and it made me realize I was getting defensive, fuck.

 

After a little while of silence, she seemed to acquiesce and accept my explanation, but something about her look told me this conversation was far from over, but she’s crazy if she thinks I’m going to give her more reason to worry, I just have to right myself whenever I find myself doing any of the things she mentioned, I couldn’t let her worry pointlessly over me…I don’t deserve it, she has other, more important things to take care of than me.  Although, worrying over me is futile when there’s obviously _nothing_ wrong with me, I’ve just been a little stressed, nothing’s else.

 

When Jamie opened her mouth to talk, her dad knocked on the open door: “Hey, Nixon, your dad’s here to pick you up.”  Probably noticing he walked in on something serious, he winced a little bit and smiled apologetically.  At this, I just nodded relieved, thankful that he’d come in and cut the pointless conversation, I’m _fine._

Both Jamie and I walked down the hallway, to the front porch, her hugging me at the door and kissing me, catching me off guard for a split second before I closed my eyes and kissed her back.  When we separated, she smiled at me, her beautiful thin lips and kind smile making me want to hold her and never let go.

 

“Bye”

 

“Bye”

 

 

_“Call me a thief, there’s been a robbery”_

_“I left with her heart, tore it apart”_

_“Made no apologies”_

 

The song’s been stuck in my head for weeks, I have no idea where I heard it the first time, nor when, but when I finally looked it up, the first thing that appeared was the music video.  Me, being a curious person (like any sane human being), started watching it.  Now I’m obsessed, Ansel Elgort’s body, his lips…  I don’t know what’s happening. 

 

I’ve watched the music video too many times tonight and…I can’t say it.  This isn’t supposed to be happening to _me_. 

 

I closed my eyes, my teeth digging into my bottom lip, trying not to make noise as I moved my hand down to my lower stomach, underneath my sweat pants.  Uncertainty clouded my mind, I chewed on my lip a little bit – a nasty habit – while thinking.  I _never_ get horny, _why_ now? And especially, why over Ansel Elgort?  Sure, his full lips are beautiful…the movements of his body, the song sounding in the background.

 

My eyes closed again of their own accord, my hand moving up and down my length. 

 

_A broad body hovering on top of me, fingers inside my mouth.  His mouth sucking on my neck, kissing me, lower and lower…_

My back arched, a muffled sound escaping me.  My other hand, traveling up to my mouth, my fingers outlining my lips.  Oh my god, oh my god…

 

My breathing hitched as my body reached its peak, and orgasm ripping itself out of me, more intense than any I’ve experienced before.  Breathless.  My chest heaved, trying to regulate after the intensity my body just experienced.

 

Dimly, I noticed the song was still playing in the background, Ansel Elgort’s voice bringing -crashing - me back to the present.

 

_“Skin on my skin, what a wonderful feeling”_

_“Take your breath but you’re asking for more”_

 

Oh my god… _oh my god, what did I just do?_

 

No…I’m so stupid, I have a girlfriend, what the fuck is wrong with me?!  This is the reason I’m such a failure, this is _why_ nothing ever goes right; because of _me_.  I can’t ever control myself.  Maybe this is the reason _that_ happened.  It’s all my fault, no matter what _anyone_ says, it’s all my fault for being like this. 

 

Weakly, the small, reasonable voice in my head was trying to convince me there’s nothing wrong with this, but, I have a girlfriend and it’s just- _no._  This shouldn’t have happened, it _shouldn’t._

 

A sob ripped itself out of my throat, everything flooding up to the surface.  All my mistakes just _today,_ and just the general _everything_ that is just disgustingly horrible about me.  All my feelings clouding any word of reason my brain might’ve come up with to contradict _everything else_.

 

I’m such a failure, Jamie should just leave me already.  She probably hasn’t because she pities me.  Maybe I should just break up with her, save her the trouble of having to deal with my unpleasant self when she finally decides she’s had enough of trying to love me.  More sobbing, _why_ can’t I stop crying?!  This is pathetic.

 

I’m such a failure, what would my dad think? He’d throw me out.  God, I’m so _pathetic_.  I should jut _die_.

 

As soon as the thought enters my mind, my sobbing stops, I feel _numb_.  Thoughts, flashes, they run through my brain, too fast for me to pay attention to just one.  Me, underwater stepping up into a chair, me on the floor, sobbing, putting the noose on my neck, the wind whipping through my hair, pushing back, wind rushing, adrenaline pumping inside my body, blood rushing, eyes…closing.  I’m so tired.

 

I’m _fine_.


	4. Plans and opinions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> \- Sexuality   
> \- Self-esteem issues  
> \- Devil class  
> \- Suicide plan  
> \- Misgendering  
> \- Stupid couple fights  
> -

“-on”

 

“-ixon!”

 

“Nixon!” 

 

_“Hm?”_

“Wake up!  Your mother’s been calling you forever, answer the fucking phone!”  My father’s voice booms, tearing me away from my semi-peaceful slumber.  I opened my eyes, wincing when the light from the open windows hurt my eyes almost instantly.  Slightly disoriented, the pain on my head from last night’s breakdown intensified by my dad throwing the phone at me making me yelp slightly, a ‘sorry’ shouted at me from outside my door as he closed it and left.  Last night was so pathetic, what the fuck even was that? I’m going to have to ignore all of what happened last night, why did I even do that? I can’t believe I…ugh, not, not thinking about this right now.

 

 _“-ello? Nixon?”_   Mentally kicking myself, I realize that yes, I am on the phone with my mom and for that to work, it requires talking, mutually.  I open my eyes again, having closed them up, the pain on my head making me nauseous and slightly dizzy.  I sat up slowly, picking up the phone, my mother’s voice clearer now that the phone’s next to my ear.

 

“Yeah?”  shit, that was the after-crying croaky voice, please don’t let her have noticed.  I just woke up, so maybe she’ll mistake it for the groggy morning voice- hopefully.  I cleared my throat slightly, trying to sell the act a little bit better, she doesn’t need to worry about me, everyone cries occasionally, last night was no big deal.

 

“Hey. Mom, yeah sorry, I was asleep, I didn’t hear the phone go off-”

 

 _“It’s okay!  I’d just thought that you’d be awake by now, but I sometimes forget how hard it was being a teenager, when I was your age, I’d sleep all weekend gladly without waking up if they’d let me.”_   I felt a small smile slip into my mouth, her laugh’s always been like this, bubbly, loud, and contagious. 

 

“Yeah, that.”  I tried to laugh too, I did, but my throat hurt, my face hurt, my head _hurt,_ my eyes felt as though they were trying to pop themselves out of their sockets.

 

 _“Anyways, I was calling about something I want to plan for Spring Break, you see, The Neighbourhood are coming here for a concert and I know this is something you wouldn’t pass, your obsession with Jesse Rutherford has been the same since you were ten years old, so…are you interested?”_   Holy-

 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes! Eeeeeek! _Yes_!”  okay, maybe this reaction is weird, but The Neighbourhood has been my favorite music group _ever_.  Their songs speak to me, some of the lyrics of my favorite songs _speak_ to me, they describe what I’m feeling, it makes me feel not so alone.

 

My mom’s laughter reached my ears again, the noise making me wince again, but the sound I made earlier, I regretted almost instantly, the slightly dwindling pain on my head came back with a vengeance, making me feel beleaguered from everything that’s been happening to me, the stress and anxiety just making me want to crawl up into a ball and die.  I just honestly regret having squealed earlier.

 

 _“Okay, I still have to ask your sister if she wants to go to the concert with us or do something else, like go out with her old friends from here or go – ugh – shopping, something her like that.”_   I giggled a little bit at that, my mother’s blatant hate for anything to do with shopping has always been my greatest relief, all these other moms taking their kids to shop with them and here my mom is, in all her glory, buying groceries online like the truly intelligent woman she is, honestly, dad should learn a thing or two from her.

 

“Ok, she’ll probably want to go, she’s been more into them since she heard ‘Cry Baby’, don’t know exactly _why_ , but she’s been obsessed, at least with that song.  I’m mad at her though, she doesn’t like ‘Sweater Weather’ and ‘Afraid’, she doesn’t even like ‘R.I.P 2 My Youth’, that’s my favorite song right now.” 

 

“ _WHAT?”_

Our conversation went on, mom and I talked for almost two whole hours, catching up on a lot of things we’d missed on these few weeks we haven’t really talked much.  She lives all the way in New York; dad, Kate, and I moved away a few years ago when I was around 10-11, and now I’m 15, so it’s been a few years.  I miss my mom a lot, seeing her sometimes is not the same as seeing her on _some_ vacations, and she’s so cool, she doesn’t need to try, it just comes naturally to her and she’s so awesome with everything.  Whenever Kate or I had an argument, she’d sit down with both of us and talk to us in a way that didn’t guilt trip you into apologizing, she just made you want to do it by _understanding_.  Mom always tries her best to understand.  I’m not saying she’s perfect, that fantasy left me when I was around 7, but she’s just so _good_.  Dad is another story, he’s conservative in some aspects and I think that’s part of the problem of why they didn’t work out, dad tried to hold her back from some things and she didn’t put up with it, which is great because equality and feminism are not to be ignored just because you’re married, it should be even more conspicuous. 

 

After a while back, we stopped talking as much as we used to, and at some point, we just stopped.  Mom only talked to me when Kate or dad gave me the phone with her already on the line.  I don’t really know why we stopped talking so much, we didn’t have an argument or anything extreme like that, we just stopped talking.  In my defense, nothing ever truly interesting happens to me and I don’t want to burden her just to tell her about my boring day and me not understanding physics.  Today felt just like when we used to talk, truthful (almost) all the way and just laughing easy going.

 

My headache, thankfully, diminished throughout the time we were talking.  When we finally hung up, already a few hours after midday, I put my phone in my nightstand and curled up again under my bed sheets, my mind feeling hazy and clouded, thoughts swirling around aimlessly, not really getting _thought about_ , if that makes sense.

 

A while later, my dad poked into my room (obviously without knocking, what kind of dad would he be if he had) “Nix, you want anything to eat?  I’m going to cook.”

 

Do I?

 

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”

 

“You sure, you haven’t eaten anything all day, you need to eat, do you feel sick or anything?”

 

I’m not hungry, leave me alone, I'm comfortable.

 

“Um…maybe something small?” Please, _small_.

 

“How about some soup and crackers?”

 

“Sure”

 

A few beats passed where I thought dad had left without closing the door until I heard him sigh.  The dip in my bed signaling he had just sat down.

 

“Are you feeling okay? Nauseous?”  The concern in my father’s voice made me feel guilty, I’m so stupid, I can’t even _try_ to act normal, what the hell’s wrong with me?

 

“No, I’m just no that hungry, maybe I’m coming down with something”

 

“Well, ok, if you feel too sick, tell me and I’ll take you to the doctor’s, ok?”

 

“Yeah”

 

Sometime later, my dad left.  Making sure I’d call him if anything happened, as if I’m going to die because I don’t want to eat _one_ meal.  Sure, I haven’t had breakfast, but I almost never do and I’m still alive.

 

The time my dad has been cooking has given me time to think, and that’s not good, at all.  My brain can’t shut up, everything’s too much right now, I’m honestly contemplating just taking some Nyquil right now, even if I don’t have anything and it’s not technically night.  I just want to _rest_. 

 

I masturbated to Ansel Elgort last night, ok, that happened, I can’t undo it. It’s not even the fact that I masturbated for a guy that gets me, it’s the fact that I basically _never_ masturbate.  Most of the time, I can’t even ‘get it up’ for Jamie, who, the first time we did anything, and she saw I wasn’t really turned on, thought I wasn’t attracted to her.  The thing is I _am_ attracted to her, she’s beautiful, I love her, she just doesn’t…I don’t _know_ , I just _can’t_.

 

This just led Jamie to show me what asexual was and I just identified as that until I saw demisexual and identified as _that_ , but I still don’t feel comfortable doing anything with Jamie, maybe it’s the fact that I’m still 15, but at this age everyone should be ready to some extent right?

 

Maybe I’m bi, or pan.  I’ve always looked at both males and females and found them aesthetically pleasing, or just plain out beautiful.  Maybe that’s it, I’m bisexual, still doesn’t explain _why_ I don’t feel comfortable doing ‘sex’ things, probably I’m still immature or something.  Ugh, why is puberty such a bitch?

 

I’m hungry now- I should call mom more often, but I don’t want to burden her, she’s always busy with her work.  I’ll just text her first and see if she’s free, that’s a better idea than calling her and bothering her, I should do that, but, she hates texting, I’ll figure it out.

 

I’m hungry now, the pain in my stomach’s making it hard to concentrate, but dad should be done soon.  I’m so comfortable.

 

“NIX! DINNER’S READY!”  thank you, Jesus.

 

I throw the comforter off me and just run into the kitchen, taking my plate and plopping my ass on a chair. 

 

“Someone’s eager.” Katelyn and my dad both laughed, my smile falling off a little, right, family dinner, talking.

 

“Ha, ha…yeah” okay, fake laugh, I tried.  Thankfully my dad decided to ignore it, probably filing it up to it being my normal bouts of unnecessary sarcasm.

 

“I guess that means you’re feeling better, right?” I finally looked up at dad and saw a smile in his handsome face, I’m not about to ruin his rare good mood, and honestly, I’m feeling better- happier.

 

“Yeah.”  With that, I dug into my soup and burned my whole mouth, but it was _good_.  Dad’s literally the best cook, it’s the one thing I admire about him, most men hate cooking for the sole fact that it strips away at their masculinity or some other bullshit, but not my dad, with all of his conservative bullshit, he’s a great cook and when we still lived with mom, he _always_ cooked, at least, he cooked alone since mom tried to put out a grease fire with water, since then she wasn’t even allowed into the kitchen unless she was looking for water or something that only required the microwave.

 

The weekend passed like that, us eating and not doing anything else, except watch TV, the model family (Ha!). 

 

My previous moods seemed to disappear like a flame that got blown on.  I feel so much better, I finally- _finally –_ started understanding my physics class and everything just seems to be going better.  We’re two weeks away from Spring Break and I’m excited as hell. 

 

Today is Wednesday, so it means that Matt, Jamie and I are meeting up in fifth period in Miss. Jackson’s (no it’s not a joke, that’s actually her name) classroom.  At the beginning of the school year, we thought we’d join this elective called ‘Creative Writing’ where you’re supposed to write about things that matter to you.  It seemed cool at first, now we’re cursing whichever one of us decided this would be a good idea.  Instead of it being creative writing about things you like, and things that matter, she makes us write about _personal experiences_ , things that you’ve experienced, and your emotions tied up with it.  She makes us write essays with a minimum of eight pages on _one_ topic, either your thoughts on it, or experiences you’ve had that you could somehow incorporate into that, how does one human do this?  That’s not even the best part, she calls it ‘Journaling’, I call it pro-arthritis plans. 

 

She always makes us write about our feelings and not important things.  When I took this class, I thought I’d finally be able to talk about gender equality in detail, or politics, even though I hate them, I could just make essays of me ridiculing all of that, but _no_ , “talking about your feeling is important.”  Not as important as other things I like thinking about.

 

“Good afternoon students, today’s a special day,” Noooo. “instead of writing about past experiences, we’re going to do a little bit of self-reflecting.”  At this, Matt and I locked eyes and rolled them simultaneously, it’s always like this, I don’t get what’s different.

 

“Today we don’t have a specific topic, I was you to write about things you like, personal things that you’re afraid of sharing.  Don’t worry, you don’t have to go _that_ deep inside if you don’t want to, but just write about your feelings towards these things.  ‘Why do you like this?’, ‘What makes this thing so important to me?’, ‘Why do I feel _connected_ to this?’.”

 

Miss. Jackson probably saw all our ignorant, lost faces and took pity on us.  “You can use songs you like, photographs, a random video you saw on the internet, an animal you like; things that you can feel connected to – a movie, even!”  Okay, write crap about something you like until you reach eight pages, I can do that.  Probably.

 

Half an hour later, the bell rang and all I had was this:

 

_Nixon Farely                Class: Creative Writing             Miss. Jackson_

 

I can’t think of anything that I like enough for me to write eight pages about.  I was originally going to talk about the movie Pinocchio and how when I was younger, I was afraid my nose would grow and I’d look ugly like the neighbor we had at the time if I lied, so I always told the truth to my parents, until I realized that no, my nose isn’t actually going to grow with every lie and I became the person I am today.  Problem with that is, I’d already said I had to say about that in three paragraphs, I need minimum eight pages.  Whenever I looked to my sides, Matt and Jamie already had about three more paragraphs added to their essays and I only had one and a half. 

 

“I hate that class.”  On our usual table at the cafeteria, we finally were able to relax, except we weren’t because both Matt and Jamie were hyper fixed on their essays, their hands looking like one of those spinney things that make noise, except without the noise and much faster, Miss. Jackson probably wasn’t even going to be able to read their ugly cursive.

 

“You are obsessed with music, why don’t you talk about how you like one of the millions of songs you know?  Talk about Halsey in general, or The 1975- no! The Neighbourhood, you’ll end up handing in a whole thesis on them alone.”  At this, Jamie looked up from her paper and laughed at my face, but ok, I’m not that obsessed with them.  When I voiced this though, Matt almost fell out of the bench from laughing, rude much?

 

“Okay, at least we have until next week to hand it in, I’ll manage.”

 

“You better, can’t have you failing high school because of _one_ elective.”  That’s true, but I won’t fail high school because of failing one class, it’ll just look _very_ bad on my college applications.  I’ll just basically have a bunch of A’s, but the college will see my sole ‘F’ and accept the next guy (o girl) instead of me, because they didn’t have that bad grade.  If I don’t get into a university 1) I will have no future and 2) on the off chance I have the smallest ever chance of having a future, my dad will kill me and that will hinder that small hope.

 

This is so stupid, I like a lot of things, and I should be able to do this without a problem, I’ve just not been into a lot of things lately, everything’s seemed so _dull_.  I must do this though, I can’t have a bad grade, or a missing credit, especially because of something like this, a stupid essay everyone in the class were basically finished with when the bell rang, and then there’s me, the stupid one that doesn’t even know what he likes.  I’d probably just fail at life anyways, I’m too dumb for that, I’m better off dying early anyways.  That’s a plan I have already, I’ll kill myself when I’m 36, I’m going to be alone anyways and life’s too dull to actually _have_ to live it all the way.

 

We’re all just humans anyways, we’re way too overpopulated, and what happens when an animal starts overpopulating in a country? We kill them.  I’ll do the same, this isn’t anything new, I’ve had this plan for as long as I can remember, before I wasn’t sure _why_ I thought about it or why it seemed like a good idea, but now I’m starting to understand.

 

I still remember my parent’s face when I said that for the first and last time.  They were so shocked, their faces aghast and horrified.  That was probably the most hilarious story my old psychologist had ever heard in his life, a 9-year-old with plans to commit suicide when he was 36.  After talking to me for a few days, he was convinced I didn’t even know what I said meant, he told my parents that I probably saw it on TV or heard it from someone somewhere and just repeated it.  I was a great liar, or maybe that guy was a horrible psychologist.  Either way, nobody’s ever heard of that plan after that whole spectacle.

 

I don’t know where child-me got the idea, but it just calls me, sure, it’ll hurt mom, dad, and maybe Kate, but they’ll get over it soon enough.  They’ll probably not talk to me anymore by then, we’ll just see each other on Christmas and New Years when we’re doing that yearly family visiting.

 

Jamie will probably have left me way before that, she’ll get bored eventually and Matt, everyone says High School friends, so matter how close, always drift apart.  They won’t miss me, and if they do, it’ll be brief.

 

I should just use an earlier age, 36 is too far away, life is too hard to live for another twenty-one years, that’s too much.  We are all the same in a way, people always insist we’re all different, and in a superficial sense, we are, but if we just keep going, we aren’t, only a small few are, and even for them, its not because of much.

 

We’re all born, we go to school at such an early age that we can’t remember when we first started, we go to school for about fifteen years, to finally graduate, and go to university until you’re about 30, by then, you start working on getting your dream jog, only to realize you can’t and have to accept something else.  You get married, have children, work or die, retire, work more, die.

 

That’s basically what contemporary humans’ lives are like, it’s all just a repetitive cycle, some with more pain than others, some with so much suffering that they refuse to endure it. 

 

Thirty-six just seems like a good age to end it all. 

 

I’d probably talk about this to Miss. Jackson if the topic was something deferent, without the plan, because telling a teacher about that is just basically asking to be dotted on, and I’m not an attention whore, I don’t need anyone worrying about me unnecessarily when I’m perfectly fine.  That plan is just a decision I made years ago, and it’ll happen regardless of whether I’m happy or not.  I’m perfectly fine, I’ve never been depressed, and I’ve never felt suicidal, that’s just a plan I have that I’m not giving up.

 

“What do you think, babe?”  Looking up, startled, I see Jamie’s smiling face turned towards me from the conversation she was having with Matt, bot of them looking over at me expectantly, I have no idea what she wants me to say.

 

“About what?”  Her glare is not something I was expecting.  Sue me, I was _thinking_ , I don’t have to be present for a conversation I’m not part of, that’d be disrespectful (because that’d be eavesdropping), and if I was listening to every single conversation Jamie, or Matt, had without me to each other, that’d be creepy.

 

“Nothing! Forget it.”  With that, Jamie got up angrily and stomped off the yard and into the school building.  Ok…

 

“What happened? Sorry I wasn’t paying attention to your conversation…? I-“ I have no idea what to say, Matt’s equally confused expression eased me a little bit, at least it didn’t anger both Matt and Jamie.

 

Matt was looking at me, their gaze locked into mine, making me a little bit uncomfortable, are they okay?  They haven’t blinked for an unnaturally long time.

 

“Nix…it’s just- she’s been worried about you, man.  She called you in the weekend and apparently you turned her down or something from going on a date and you haven’t been the same, now you’re more detached, more introverted than usual.”

 

I’ve been acting weird?  No, that can’t be, I’ve been trying harder than ever to be normal.  The goal was to not make them worry, god, I’m such a failure at _everything_.  I can’t even pay attention to Jamie when she’s sad and all she does most of the time is be worried because of me, I’m the worst boyfriend.  She should just break up with me, I’m dirt, not even that, I’m shit.  She probably hates me, I should just _die_.  God damnit, I’m the worst type of human that has ever existed.  Matt probably wants to leave and I’m here, holding him back because he’s _worried_.  I’m perfectly fine, why can’t anyone see that?!

 

“Are you oka- “-I’m perfectly _fine._ ”  I cut Matt off, getting up and storming off, knowing that if I stayed, they’d get my anger when it’s not directed at them, but at myself.  I probably just made Matt feel horrible, with me blowing up at them like that.  They’re probably going to cry now, all because of me.  Ever since I’ve known Matt, I’ve known that they’re a very sensitive person and feel emotions too hard, now, because of me, they’re probably holding back tears and it’s _my_ fault.  It’s my fault, it’s always my fault.  Why can’t I even do anything right?  I’m worthless, I’m so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid…the air I breathe probably could go to some other person who deserves it much more than I do, but _no_ , I’m alive and fucking things up on a roll.

 

Sometime after I stormed off and holed myself in the school bathroom, I realized the bell had rang a good half an hour ago and Matt would probably be worried about me, even though I snapped at them.  They’re too nice, I don’t deserve them, I don’t deserve anyone.

 

Sometime after the last bell rang, I ran out of the bathroom and out of the school.  I’m so done with today, whatever delusion of a good mood I was having this morning, was killed throughout my day. 

 

Outside the school, I could see dad’s car, but that’s basically impossible, because my dad leaves his work at 5pm, and when he _does_ leave early, he still makes Kate and I get home by ourselves, because ‘that helps you get a taste of all that freedom you say you want’ or something like that.  When I got close enough to see if dad was inside, I saw him and Kate talking in the front seats, her eyes bloodshot, making me wonder what happened.  Hopefully the school didn’t call him to tell me I skipped my last two classes, I’m not ready to get scolded yet.  I sighed, readying myself for a storm and opened the back door.

 

“Hey, Nix” Ok, he’s probably faking this, there’s no way he’d be this cool if he knew I skipped two classes…maybe he doesn’t know.  Please.

 

“Hey, dad, Kate, what’s up with this weird occurrence?”

 

“Your sister had a bad day, some of her “friends” decided it’d be a funny prank to tell something to someone and now, well, everyone knows.  She called me and asked me if I could pick her up and well, here I am.”  Wow, okay.  Great explanation, I have absolutely _no_ questions.

 

“Ok, does my squad of snipers and I need to kill someone, or do you have it under control now?” Kate laughed at this, I laughed with her a little, though for the most part, I’m completely serious, the worst thing that you can see is your sister crying because some other asshole couldn’t help their need to be that-an asshole and hurt her.

 

“No, it’s okay, tomorrow I’ll deal with it, today was just too much.”  She sniffed, signaling that not long ago she was crying, I hope whatever it is, she’ll really deal with it tomorrow.  She may be a demo, but she’s our demon.

 

“Okay, yeah, I get it.”

 

“Nix, why don’t you tell Matt to ride with us, he only lives a few houses down, he can even stay for dinner.”  I internally winced at my dad unknowingly mis gendering Matt.  Though I know that if we told dad, he’d just laugh and tell Matt to “man-up”, ad’s never been the understanding type. 

 

“Yeah, sure.  I’ll call…him.”  That felt horrible, I’m pretty sure I’m still cringing, if dad’s amused but confuse face at me is anything to go by.

 

I quickly called Matt, hoping they won’t be mad at me because of earlier, I know I was out of line, but I’ll apologize right now.

 

_“Hey”_

_“Hey, Matt, two things.  One, dad wants to know if you want to ride with us because he miraculously came to pick us up, you can also stay for dinner.  Two, sorry about earlier, I was out of patience and just having a generally bad day.”_

_“To the first one, sure, I’ll be right there, and for the second one, don’t worry about it, Nix, just don’t do it again.  If you’re not angry at me, don’t take it out on me.”_

Their words were a hundred percent serious, but I could still hear the lightness in their voice, meaning that what I did, thankfully, didn’t seem to affect them as much as I thought.

 

_“I promise”_

_“Ok, good, I’m here”_

Just as they hung up, a knock came from the other side of the back seat.  My dad opened the lock and Matt slid in, greeting both my dad and sister, shooting my sister a concerned look, but face softening at her smile.

 

“How’ve you been Matt, feels like we haven’t seen you in ages.”  Matt smiled over at my dad, who smiled back over the rearview mirror.

 

“Yeah, this year’s just been so stressful.  High school movies make this seem easy, but the load of crap homework they send us is no joke, this is inhuman.”  My dad laughed, and Matt kept talking, not once looking at me worried over missing the last two classes.  Not that I want them to be worried about me or anything, but the tiniest bit of acknowledgement on the way home would be appreciated, but not even that.  It’s okay though, I’m fine anyways, so Matt doesn’t need to burden themselves by worrying about me.

 

That afternoon we went up to my room to talk while dad made dinner and Kate did whatever it is she does in her bedroom which is always, seriously, that girl is always in there.

 

“Have you talked with Jamie at all since she stormed off?” Matt leaned back in my bed and entwined their fingers together, a habit they’ve had since I’ve known them.

 

“Not really, whenever she’s mad I give her a few hours to calm and then I call and apologize.”  Though this time, I have no idea what I’ll be apologizing for.  Sure, I’ve been distant, but I think she’d probably hate it more if I was hovering over her all the time, isn’t it important to have trust?

 

“Honestly, man, she’s really worried about you, saying you’re different and what-not, I don’t think I would’ve noticed if she hadn’t told me, though.” Matt told me this and my whole world seemed to brighten, so they wouldn’t have noticed if I’d been weird or not, so it _was_ working, not that I had anything to hide, I’m fine.

 

“I’m fine, really. Just having a rough time with all this school work we’re getting, right now I have the Creative Writing essay, physics essay, math exam in two days, and a novel to read for English I should’ve finished this weekend, but I was too busy sleeping.”

 

Matt snorted at this, knowing I’m the king of procrastination.  It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just that if I’m going to get a good grade whether I study last minute, or a week before, better do it last minute, that way I have more free time.

 

“I get you, I get you.”

 

 

Matt, after having dinner with us, left for their home a few blocks down.  Leaving me with a phone and my thoughts slowly swirling around my brain.  Almost in autopilot, I looked for Jamie’s contact and called, a sigh leaving my body as I prepared for a deep conversation.

 

_“Hello”_

“Hi, J”

A beat of silence later, we both started talking at the same time.

 

“I’m sorry about earlier- “

_“I shouldn’t have stormed out- “_

I decided to remain quiet, silently prompting her into talking.

 

 _“I’m sorry, Nix, about earlier.  I shouldn’t have snapped at you for literally_ nothing _, and I shouldn’t have stormed out either, I’m really sorry about that.”_

Another sigh left my body at that, ok, so she’s thankfully not mad at me anymore.  At least this time I don’t have to pointlessly apologize for something (somewhat) beyond my control.

 

“It’s okay, J, just…please don’t snap like that and just talk to me, if you’re mad about something I’m doing or something external, apart from our relationship, please don’t scream at me, talk to me and we’ll work it out however we can.”I have a small hunch that that this is something else that’s bothering her, and not just me being different or not paying attention at a conversation I was obviously not part of anyways.

 

 _“Yeah, I know, Nix, it’s nothing too much, just my parents had a huge fight this morning and I was still shaken up about it, thinking that they would file for divorce or something, it was_ that _bad, you know?”_ Yes, I know.  When parents fight, it’s the more frightening thing ever, because you’re ripped out of your delusions about that ‘perfect family’, because for once, you could see your parents clearly, with all their flaws out in the open, screaming things in hurt tones, trying to inflict that same kind of pain, trying to get their point across, each argument being louder and _louder_.

 

“Yeah…are they okay now though?  Your parents are really in love.”  They are, they really are.

 

 _“Yea, they sat with me this afternoon and explained to me- they sat down to talk after calming down and talked about what it was that caused the argument, they’re okay now, though, they’re fine.”_ I’m pretty sure that’s Jamie trying to convince herself more than she is trying to convince me, but she can talk all she wants, and I’ll listen to her, because if she needs comfort, that’s what I’m here for.

 

We talked for a little while about that, after a while, the shakiness in her voice had disappeared and I was lying down in my bed, laughing at something she’d just said.

 

It was fun, a single thought kept disrupting my relaxed afternoon - night?  Yeah, night.  The one thing I haven’t thought about in a few weeks had suddenly become stuck in my head, my mind going crazy with it.  Should I just tell her?  How will she react?  Will she think I’m not in love with her anymore?  Of _course,_ I won’t tell her the _whole_ thing, she doesn’t need to know the full details, I love her, but I draw the line _there_.  I’ll tell her, I’ll even disclose about it being Ansel Elgort, so she doesn’t feel as though I had my bi awakening from someone at school, ok, here I go…ok.

 

“Um, so, do your parents already have a trip planned for Spring Break?”  Well, fuck.  Winced at my sad attempt at making conversation and delaying what I’d have to tell her at some point anyways.

 

 _“Yeah we’re just going to Disney because my mom couldn’t get the whole week free and us going very far away for just three days didn’t sound convincing, so we’re just doing a four-hour trip to Disney, staying at their hotels for three days and coming back here, it’ll be fun._ ”  We giggled at the last statement, we live in Florida, going to Disney isn’t that big of a vacation, more of a weekend trip (if you have enough money, if you don’t or your dad’s like mine, then you go about once a year, if at all) for her, but she likes Disney so probably that’s why she’s okay with it.

 

“Cool, cool, um…Kate and I are going to New York to visit mom and she’s taking us to a NBHD concert as well, so, that’s exciting.”

 

We talked about more random things, until we realized that it _is_ a school night and sleeping is a thing.

 

 _“_ I love you, J.”

_“Love you too, Nix.”_

 

After a lot of “good nights”, we hung up, a crushing feeling falling over me, I couldn’t tell her.  It’s stupid, because there’s a 99% chance that she’ll accept me, that 1% there to not make me so sure of myself.  This is nerve-wracking though, making me doubt my girlfriend’s acceptance of me, even though I know she’s one of the most accepting people in existence.

 

What if she suddenly thought I’m in love with someone else and left me?  Maybe that’d be for the better, I’m just holding her back being with her.  But I’m selfish and I love her, and I won’t be able to function properly if she leaves me, she’s my rock in a way (in all ways).  Jamie’s the reason I haven’t tried anything stupid, I know that, but I’m fine as long as she’s with me, I’m _fine_.


	5. Tired and confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> \- Self-deprecation  
> \- Graphic descriptions of vomiting and purging  
> \- Thoughts of self-harm  
> \- Psychotic episode  
> \- Fainting  
> \- Mentions of insomnia  
> \- Flashbacks  
> \- Child rape  
> \- Pedophilia  
> \- Child manipulation  
> \- Anxiety  
> \- PTSD

Anxiety’s making my stomach feel as though it were tied in knots. Hoping that it would help appease the feeling in my stomach, I reached over to my little speaker and put the song ‘Skin’ by Sixx:A.M., it’s my go-to song whenever I feel sad. It isn’t relaxing me, it’s just making me feel worse, but I still won’t turn it off, I like the lyrics.  
   
A sob tears itself out of my throat, shaking my whole body with it’s force. My hands start trembling, tears running down my face at an alarming speed.   
   
I’m such an idiot. I’m so stupid.  
   
Choked sobs fall from my mouth, my sniffling not working anymore, my nose clogged from the snot, just as my heart’s clogged from these many emotions that just don’t seem to stop. I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore, everything’s mixed together, tremors racking down my body, anxiety and panic manifesting themselves in me, that sensation of having to throw up getting stronger and stronger. I don’t deserve Jamie, I don’t deserve her love, I don’t deserve Matt’s love, I don’t deserve anything, I don’t even deserve the calmness of death. I’m going to throw up- I don’t want to get up, I don’t deserve to feel comfortable while another, better person somewhere isn’t feeling comfortable, I’m below that person, I don’t deserve all these nice things. I don’t, I don’t.  
   
Why am I such a bad person? Why am I like this, why can’t I be better? Why am I alive? Why does no one want to tell me the truth, why does everything have to swirl around a big lie, that doesn’t make sense? What even is the lie? Why does everyone need to lie, I’m a bad person, I hate this, I hate everything, I hate myself. Stop, stop, stop! I want to die, what even am I? I’m a horrible being, I can’t be a human, I’m too ugly for that, I’m too much of a monster to be a human. I deserve punishment for everything I’ve done- maybe this is it. Maybe all I’m doing is my punishment, all I’m doing right now is part of a bigger plan, everything’s their fault. It’s all their fault, their fault, their fault. No, it’s my fault for being bad- I’m horrible, I’m a liar, I’m a monster and it’s their fault.  
   
A sharp pain, makes me cry out, I rolled out of my bed. ‘Good, you don’t deserve that comfort’   
   
I don’t deserve it anyways. I’m such a failure, it’s them making me this way, what are they?  
   
I get up quickly and run out of my room, throwing the door open and throwing myself inside the bathroom, bending over, nothing comes out. It feels so uncomfortable, I need to throw up. I need to get rid of this thing thrashing up my insides, making me feel corrupted, toxic. I need it out, it’s inside me and it’s taking over, it will if I don’t get it out, now. I need it out- out, I need it out.  
   
In my panic, everything seemed conflated, my eyes finding the toothbrush, fixing themselves on it as though it were their cynosure. I slowly sat up, a murmurous thing telling me to ‘pick it up, you know what to do, I can guide you through it, it’ll be worth it, you deserve the pain, you deserve it.’  
   
I’m a monster, I deserve it.  
   
I grabbed it, my thumb moving over the blunt end of the handle.  
   
An intense feeling moved through me. It’s consuming me, I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, it won’t let me, I can’t. Make it stop.  
   
‘You know how to stop it.’  
   
Bent over the toilet seat, I shoved the end of my toothbrush into my throat, the pain clearing my head a little bit. For a second, the suddenness of the bile rushing on my throat almost took me off guard, but I managed to bend over and throw up into the toilet. A coughing fit suddenly overtakes me, loud and hurting. I realize that tears haven’t stopped rushing down my face, a glance down making me wince and hold my head, sudden dizziness washing over me, my coughing turning into crying. I slide down the wall into the floor, the motion making me feel more pathetic than ever.  
   
Why? It’s still there, the feeling inside me isn’t gone, how…why?  
   
I feel like screaming, all of this for nothing? Why didn’t it work? It’s their fault, it’s all their fault. Why isn’t the feeling gone? I need it gone. Please…  
   
‘You know what to do, you monster. You know what you need to do.’  
   
A glance down at the cabinet underneath the sink, the image of my sister’s pack of razors, my dad’s sleeping pills…I look to the side, imagining, the tub…  
   
My thoughts whirring, is this what it takes? I shouldn’t, I should, ‘they’re controlling you, break free, this is your chance, all you must do is…make a move. Open the cabinet, pick it up…do it.’  
   
Another sob escapes my mouth. I blink hard and suddenly its as if I was looking at myself from outside. I’m not me, that’s not me. Those blue bloodshot eyes aren’t mine, and that red, blotchy, slightly round face isn’t mine, it’s not mine. That’s not me. It isn’t, I’m not, I’m not, I’m not, I’m not, I’M NOT! STOP!  
   
There’s a roaring in my head, it’s outside, it’s everywhere, it won’t stop, stop. I’m back in my body, the sensation feels more wrong than anything else I’ve ever experienced.  
   
“Nixon?” what, it’s not real, don’t look up, it’s them, it’s them.  
   
“Who’s ‘them’? Nixon, you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?” A hand suddenly grasps his own, thin and fragile, human. Flesh, normal, human, like me. I’m normal, I’m normal, I’m normal.  
   
I look up, my sister’s face stares back at me through the darkness, concern evident in her face, I don’t have the energy to assure her…I’m tired, I’m so tired.  
   
“Did you throw up? Do you feel sick still? Oh god, you’re crying, what’s wrong, does anything hurt?”   
   
I almost hurt myself…I made myself throw up…what happened? I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m not okay.  
   
“Nixon! Talk to me, or nod or something. Do you still feel sick?” Kate’s voice was starting to sound frantic, my eyes finally focusing enough to see her, kneeling beside me, her eyes wet with unshed tears.  
   
I shook my head, I never felt sick in the first place, I did this myself, shit, I did this myself. What was that? Why did the happen? Is that normal? It can’t be, what happened? Am I going crazy, everything felt weird for that time, it was like a different reality from now, completely different.  
   
“Ok, ok…where’s your toothbrush? Shit, it’s in the toilet, how the fuck did it get there?”  
   
“Um…I knocked it over.” My voice croaked, and I winced, my whole throat felt like I imagine deep-throating a dick felt like, in a way I just did, but with my toothbrush, does that count? At this, I couldn’t hold it in and ended up barking out a laugh. It was more sudden and harsh than it was happy, but I still felt amused, it just felt funny. Looking up and seeing my sister’s alarmed face, I shouldn’t have laughed.   
   
“Sorry, it’s just the toothbrush, um…” I realized that I couldn’t really tell her about this, I couldn’t tell anyone. Thankfully, she took it another way and smiled at me tiredly.  
   
“Yeah, I guess that’s pretty funny. I am not going to put my hand in there, I’m flushing it and hoping for the best.” While she did that, I leaned over and opened the cabinet, looking inside for one of the spare toothbrushes we kept down here, taking it, but before I could close it, my eyes found the packets of razors, one for my sister, one for my dad and me.  
   
I almost…  
‘Do it.’ No! I shut closed the cabinet with more force than needed, ignoring Kate’s questioning gaze and slowly getting up to wash my mouth.  
   
“I’m going to go get dad, wait here a minute.” No! He doesn’t need to see me here, this is pathetic.  
   
“No, it’s-“I was cut off by my own coughing, the scratchiness of my voice making me feel way too much as if I was sick.  
   
“Shut up and wash your mouth, I’m getting him anyways, you’re sick.” You have no idea.  
   
I wash my mouth and my face, realizing that while that happened, I sweated way too much. When I finish all, my dad comes in with my sister, his tired blue eyes making my stomach drop with guilt, he’s been an insomniac for years now and seldom does he get any good sleep, and here I have to go and fuck up on the night he’s sleeping okay for once.  
   
“Nix? Are you still feeling sick?”  
   
Always.  
   
“No, I’m better now, something must’ve not sit well with me.”  
   
I tried to look my dad in his eyes, I really did, but the intensity I saw with which he was looking at me felt like too much, I couldn’t lie while looking at his eyes, so alike mine, only mine probably reflected all the broken emotions that are swirling inside me right now.  
   
‘Failure.’  
   
My heart sank. What?   
   
…what?  
   
What?  
   
“What?”  
   
“Nix! Seriously, are you okay? What’s wrong with you?” What? What was that? What’s going on? It’s all their fault isn’t it? This isn’t me, it’s their fault, I need to warn them, they’re in danger, no, stop!  
   
“What?”  
   
“Nixon!” My name was like a whisper breaking through the darkness inside my mind, before it consumed me, eating me whole and refusing to let go.  
   
   
The next thing I know, I’m waking up on my bed, the sheets around me making a sound escape me in comfort. It’s so good. What happened…?  
   
My eyes snap open, the memories of what happened before I presumably fainted crashing into my mind making me wince, what the hell did I do? That was so stupid.  
   
“Nix…?” My dad’s voice broke through the weight on my head, making me take in my surroundings. I’m on my bed, my dad having probably carried me here (losing his back in the process) and – from a quick look at my window – it’s still night. Hopefully I wasn’t asleep that long. I shouldn’t have made my family worry like this, dad probably already called mom and she’s sitting worried in New York waiting for him to call her back.  
   
“Wait a second, Elizabeth, I think he’s waking up – here, Kate, talk with your mom a little bit.” This almost made me laugh, I can imagine perfectly the way he held the phone out to my sister without paying much attention to either the phone or her- mostly because he always gives me the phone when he does that, which is often. He just basically never wants to talk on the phone, so he just hands it off to the nearest person, it being me most of the time.  
   
I felt his hand brush the side of my head, me opening my eyes to look at him. His concern filled eyes finding mine and looking frantically, as if just by looking at me he could figure out what was wrong and fix it.  
   
“Hey” A loud cough escapes me, making me wince and sit up, the sensation of choking, overwhelming me the more I stayed laid down. About two minutes later, I finally felt ‘ok’ enough to try and talk again, my dad sitting on the side of the bed looking at me, mom’s frantic voice sounding as though it were on speaker from how hard she was screaming.  
   
“José, José, I swear to fucking god, if you don’t tell me what’s happening right now- is he okay? Are you okay, Nix? Baby, answer me please, since your dad’s and asshole.”   
   
A small, amused smile appeared in my face, my dad’s expression soon copying mine. Mom will never change, I’m so thankful for her.  
   
“Hey mom, yeah, I’m awake now…what happened?” I looked at my dad for the last part, I honestly don’t remember much. I know that I probably fainted, but everything else seems so out of reality, it feels like a dream, but on that isn’t slipping away. It’s there, but it seems so…not real.  
   
“Your sister came to get me, yelling about how you were crying in the bathroom and had thrown up everything. When I went there, you seemed fine for a few minutes while you cleaned your face, and then you froze, completely, for a few seconds. You didn’t respond to anything, I’m calling your name, and just as suddenly, you look all confused and disoriented before you fainted.” Oh, okay. That sounds weird, I don’t remember freezing up or anything, I just remember hearing something, feeling really confused and fainting. When I vocalized this, dad looked at me closely for a second and sighed.  
   
“I honestly thought you were going to start having a seizure, you just froze and fell, it was so much like whenever your uncle Alex has a seizure, I was terrified.” My eyes widened, dad’s eyes were filling up with tears, a few falling down his cheeks before he held me tightly to his chest, me hugging him back tightly because dad almost never cries and when he does, it’s terrifying in a completely different way than anyone may think. My dad, the strong man that my dad is, breaking down because of something I stupidly did is terrifying.  
   
I could see Kate getting on the bed as well, hugging dad’s other side, him holding both of us now, his tears diminishing, but his round eyes still looking bloodshot and tired.  
   
“I’m sorry dad.”  
   
“No, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault at all, don’t you dare apologize, you just got really sick and I got scared because I’m your dad and it’s my job to be scared for you, but don’t you dare apologize. It’s not your fault.” Dad took the phone back from Kate while he said this, mom’s hum of affirmation making a warm feeling spread around my chest – which I hadn’t realized was so cold – and a smile to spread on my face.  
   
“Okay.”  
   
Dad, obviously, proceeded to put on a stern face and say: “Don’t you even think that you’re going to school, either of you.” His glare was potent enough to make Kate and I look at each other in the eyes and gulp.   
   
“…okay,”  
   
A little later, Kate left for her bedroom and dad - after hanging up with mom, who asked me about a million questions I had wither to evade or answer truthfully - hugged me one last time and got off from my bed, leaving out the door and – for once – closing it behind him.  
   
What happened to me last night? That had never happened to me before, at least, not to the extent where I felt compelled to do things, as if something…external was guiding me to doing it.   
   
Is someone controlling me? I knew they were at fault, it’s all their fault, I have to stop them…how? They can’t keep doing this.  
   
Somewhere around my monologue, I fell asleep. The black shadows around my bed bringing one final discomfort before the darkness of sleep overtook me.  
   
That morning, getting up was a struggle. Later it came to my attention that we went to sleep around four in the morning, to get up at eight because dad got me an appointment at nine, it’s horrible. I know I threw up and I know that you don’t know that I made myself throw up but, we’re all supposed to be tired today. Thankfully, I don’t have to go to school and socialize today, I don’t think I’d be able to be normal at this hour with having slept only four hours and having had the mother of breakdowns last night.  
   
I’m sitting on my bed right now, wondering if I can just go back to sleep and we can arrive late at the doctor’s, if I didn’t know for a fact that my dad will kill me if I do that, I’d have done it already. I’m so tired. What I don’t understand is why exactly, sure, I only slept four hours and had a breakdown, but I’ve spent whole nights awake and go to school the next day without much issue. I don’t know. All I do know is that I’m not going to tell anyone about what happened, I’m fine now, that was just a stress induced breakdown from my coming out to J failure.  
   
“Nixon! Hurry the fuck up!”  
   
Okay, we’re probably late already. I quickly take my grey sweatpants, light pink sweatshirt and white converse, today I’m feeling the Tumblr/Pinterest vibe (don’t judge me), plus, sweatpants are my go-to for doctor’s appointments, just because they’re comfortable and most of the time when I’m going to a doctor’s appointment, I’m not healthy enough to get all dressed up in jeans and tees with jackets, ugh, no, that’s too much color coordination and planning.  
   
I’m so hungry again, I’m getting fat, I was really skinny about two weeks ago, I’m weird.  
   
“NIXON!”  
   
“COMING!” I quickly ran out of my room and to the front door, closing it with my pair of keys and jumping up into the backseat of the car (my sister always gets shotgun for the fact that she’s older, not fair, but it is).  
   
“What the hell took you so long you fuck? I did my make up and was still faster than you.” Kate rolled her eyes in my direction, a sharp feeling or pure irritation making my hand twitch, desperate to hit something, but no, because hitting things is stupid and hitting Kate is stupid as well because that’ll hurt my hand and I’m not feeling up to it to day- also, she hits really hard and my body is experiencing chronic pains at the moment, so, no.  
   
“Well pardon me, I was showering and trying not to die or something in there from slipping.” We both snorted at this, not because of the dying part (though something morbid inside me [which I decided not to acknowledge] felt elated at the thought of dying), but because one time, when I was younger- about nine or ten, before we moved out- I was showering and while trying to reach the bar of soap, I slipped and hit my head on the corner of the shower cracking my head open, at the time, this was very terrifying. Now we just laugh about it, because that’s proof that I’ve always been stubborn; instead of yelling for mom or dad to come and hand me the bar of soap, I decided that “No, I’m big enough to do this, I’m older now” and promptly fell and almost died (not really, but it felt like it at the moment). Anyways, now we just joke about it.  
   
“Why are we going to the doctor again? I only threw up a little, and maybe fainted for a few minutes, that’s not a big deal.” I bit my lip, knowing that my attempt to get out of this are futile, but I still tried anyways. I hate being “sick”, even though I’m not, but still.  
   
“Because it’s not normal or someone to just go…and freeze up like that, Nix. If you had just thrown up, I’d just give you oatmeal and you go on with your day like normal, but Nix, you froze up, you didn’t answer and then you fainted after throwing up, there could be something seriously wrong, and it’s best for us to go now that’s its just shown up than to wait and suddenly you have cancer or something.” I couldn’t help but look down ashamed, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m fine though, everything will show up fine in the check-up.  
   
“Ok, ok. I’m sorry”  
   
A few minutes later, while we were arriving at the office, my phone rang, and I could see Matt’s name flashing on the screen. Well, I feel bad admitting that I completely forgot to inform my best friend, and girlfriend that I wasn’t going to school today. Wow, what a great friend you are, Nixon, amazing, really. I shook my head, willing the tiny voice condescending me and answered the phone, putting it up to my ear.  
   
“Hello?”   
   
“Bitch, the fuck are you?” I winced a little at their tone, knowing fully well that they’re mad and if the sound in the background is anything to go by, they probably have the phone on speaker with Jamie listening silently next to them- lurking, basically, but in real life.  
   
“Sorry I forgot to call, Matt, it’s just that, well…I fainted last night after throwing up so dad wants to take me to the doctor, I just forgot to call you because I’m really tired, you have no idea.” I hope this satisfies them enough, I’m not about to go full disclosure on all that happened last night. Not now, not ever.  
   
“Oh shit, dude, are you okay now, though?” The worry in their voice is making me want to cringe, I don’t need for people to be worried about me, I don’t fucking deserve it.  
   
“Yeah, I’m better now, it’s just in case.” By now, dad had parked he car and we were getting off, walking up to the front door of the office, dad going inside to talk with the receptionist and me staying outside a little bit with strict orders of: “End the phone call, they’ll call us inside in a little while.”  
   
“Ah, yeah, understandable.”  
   
“Uh, yeah, I have to go now because we’re already here and you know how my dad is with cell phones, so I have to go, and I’ll call you both later.” We quickly said our goodbyes after this, Jamie’s being said after her surprise passed, ending up with giggles from both of them, of course I knew.  
   
I walked into the office and sat next to my dad who had already put on his reading glasses and was looking at a random Men’s Health magazine, probably from seven years ago.  
   
I was starting to regret having ended the call and entering by the second hour I was sitting there, bored to another level and questioning my life choices while I played Color Switch on my phone. Seriously, there is literally nobody else here, what is the necessity of wasting two hours doing absolutely nothing.  
   
About three years later- more like an hour, but three years is basically the same- a woman with big glasses came out and called my name. My dad stood up and walked over to her, me only a few steps behind him, when the lady says it’s just to check my height and weight, that I could go back to sitting after that. Is she serious? I might have to commit arson.  
   
Around one in the afternoon, the doctor came out and finally called my name. By now, I’m regretting not having eaten breakfast, not bringing a gun, and generally just regretting being alive.   
   
Dad and I go over to the office thing, and I sit down on the table (it was cold, my butt is now cold). There is nobody else in here, why must the doctor take four hours to call my name and see if I’m dying or something, why? A man in a lab coat came into the small office. His brown hair trimmed close to his head, glasses perched on his nose giving him a slightly smart look, not sure why, it just did. His brown eyes swept around the office until he looked at my dad and smiled, sitting down in one of the chairs and talking to my dad about what happened, him looking disinterestedly at me before standing up and trying but failing to smile nicely.  
   
“So, Nixon, anymore nausea, headaches, dizziness, difficulty breathing?” The doctor, Dr. Quinn asked me while walking towards me, I looked at my dad, do I have to talk? Is that necessary?  
   
“Don’t look at me, I can’t guess how you’re feeling.”  
   
I rolled my eyes at dad, he always does the same thing. “No, I haven’t felt anything since.” Dr. Quinn nodded, taking a stethoscope and putting it – shit, it’s cold – on my chest and telling me to take deep breaths.   
   
“Okay…nothing out of the ordinary, open up.” I opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out, and looking awkwardly to the side because my other option was staring at the doctor in the face while I stuck my tongue out and…no, I refuse.  
   
“Okay, a little irritated, but that’s probably from throwing up.” I relaxed, my shoulders dropping from where they had tensed. For a second, I thought he’d know and that was also not an option, he couldn’t know, nobody can know.  
   
“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, the best plausible option is that you somehow got a virus from the food and fainted because of shock.” My eyebrows were probably up to my hairline by now, he made me wait four hours outside to tell me this, that ‘the best plausible option’, what the hell? I mean, I’m thankful he’s so half assed, but there are probably a lot of parents who came here with concern in their minds and left with thoughts of murder and knives, lots of knives.  
   
‘Knives…’  
   
“What?” I looked over at the door, but nobody’s there. Kate stayed outside in the waiting room and the nurse was nowhere nearby. I’m sure I heard a woman’s voice…the nurse probably walked over quickly looking for knives…lunch break? I’m so confused.  
   
“Nixon?” My father’s voice startled me enough to jump a little, his eyes were glazed over with concern, looking from the door and back to me, looking for whatever I looked so startled at.  
   
“Yeah? Sorry, I thought I heard something, probably just tired.” I looked back at Dr. Quinn, trying to ignore my father’s gaze, he’d know I was lying even though I’m not even sure if I am, I did hear something, but yeah, I’ve heard lack of sleep can cause one to be jumpy. If my dark circles are anything to go by, I’m probably more than sleep deprived.  
   
“Are you not sleeping, Nixon?” The doctor looked at me closely for the first time since we arrived, probably now assessing my dark circles for the first time, ‘Wow, what a way to make me feel pretty’. I almost noted at that thought.  
   
“Um, no. I either sleep too much or not at all.” Dr. Quinn looked thoughtful for a few seconds before he turned to my father.  
   
“Any family history of sleeping problems that you know about, Mr. Farely?” Dad looked startled for a second before he looked at Dr. Quinn sheepishly.  
   
“Yeah, I’ve been an insomniac since I was a teenager, I have pills for it now.” Dr. Quinn looked weirdly happy at this information, looking at me and dad both quickly, before opening his mouth.  
   
“That could be a source of the dizziness, sleep deprivation can make people dizzy and disoriented, that coupled with the strain in the body after throwing up probably is the reason why Nixon here fainted last night.” Dr. Quinn looked way to proud at his hypothesis, considering it’s just that, a hypothesis, and a wrong one at that. I won’t argue about anything though, my dad looks satisfied with the answer, him turning to me quickly.  
   
“Is it too bad though? Do you think you need to get medication, we can go talk to my doctor, your old psychologist?” I blushed a little looking down, my dad’s psychologist is so hot. How did I not know I’m bisexual? That man is the definition of a Greek god. I’m so bi. Fuck, okay, focus, calm, calm. But my old psychologist…no, that woman would bring back too may memories I’ve worked too hard to repress.  
   
“No…it’s normalized a bit lately, I’ve been sleeping a lot more these last days.” But I never feel rested. I bit my tongue on that last part, I’m not about to tell them this, it’s basically me digging myself a bigger hole.  
   
“Okay…” My dad still didn’t look convinced, but I made myself hold eye contact and look at him as seriously as I could, he needs to understand that I’m fine. He doesn’t need to be worrying over me when he’s got more important things to worry about, besides, last night was a one-time thing, I’m fine now.   
   
From the small furrow in my dad’s brow, I noticed – exasperatedly – that he still didn’t looked convinced. I rolled my eyes playfully at dad and offered him a smile in his direction, hoping it was disarming enough to get him off my back. After a few seconds of pondering and looking at me, dad threw a grin my way and turned back to Dr. Quinn who either was oblivious to the whole interaction, or just didn’t care. I love my smile, it’s the only thing about my face that I like, I got graced with my father’s straight teeth, just not the straight of straightness of gay…stuff, I just confused myself. Either way, I prefer being bisexual and have straight teeth, than being straight and having to wear braces, that looked like it hurt.  
   
Anyways, getting back on topic; my dad nodded at something Dr. Quinn said, them talking about a few options if for whatever reason my sleep patterns start getting worse again. A few more mandatory questions including heavy blushing and sadistic smirking from my dad, and we could finally leave. That was basically half an hour, which brings me back to my previous question: What was the necessity of making us wait for a million years outside in the waiting room, if the appointment was going to be the biggest anticlimax of my life?  
   
I made it my point to complain about this loudly to my dad as we left the office, hoping that the scoff from the receptionist was an angry scoff. Kate looked up from her phone and smiled at my dad, mint colored braces looking February-like with her red lipstick. She needs to put some green ones now that we’re in March, for soldiers and eggs. That sounded weird even in my head.  
   
When we entered the car with plans to go get pizza, I stretched like the mother in the Incredibles and turned on the radio because that silence was making me feel anxious. I kept hitting the buttons impatiently, the radio going from Justin Bieber, to Taylor Swift, to trap music, to more bullshit. Ugh, why is there nothing on? I’d settle with some Drake, even though I don’t like any except three of his songs. As if god was real and for once feeling generous and answering prayers, Halsey came on after some song by The Chainsmokers ended. As is normal when Halsey comes on, dad turned up the music, Kate took a deep breath, I sat back down where I’m supposed to be in the back seat and we all started singing along to her ‘Heaven in Hiding’, also known as the best song in her ‘hopeless fountain kingdom’ album, whoever says otherwise needs some serious mental check-up.  
   
“And when you start to feel the rush  
a crimson headache, aching blush  
and you surrender to the heat you’ll know  
I can put on a show, I can put on a show  
Don’t you see what you’re finding?  
This is heaven in hiding”  
   
All three of us screamed our lungs out while singing the chorus, breaking into giggles at the end of it from our feeble attempts at looking sexy while singing it. Somehow, Kate and I blasted Halsey enough in the house that now, whenever dad hears the first few seconds of a song of hers, without even needing to listen to her voice, he knows it’s Halsey and starts to ready himself for his big moment. He said, and I quote: “Halsey is…as you kids say- ‘Queen.’” The day he said that was awesome, I felt so proud.  
   
As the song ended and Khalid came on, dad put the radio’s volume so low that I had to strain my ears just to make out the beats. Kate’s enraged demon shriek (not really, but it feels like that to me) compelled dad into raising it a bit more, but not much, he doesn’t really like other artists from “our robot generation” like he so kindly puts it.  
   
When we finally reached the pizza place and ate, we left the little pizzeria and decided to go hang round the mall, because “might as well celebrate our free day” as my dad said, which is true because he’s basically never free for his work.  
   
Kate insisted we go to Sephora, where she spent around two hours and she spent her monthly check, we walked around some more, at one point, getting frappes from a tiny kiosk in the middle of the mall.  
   
“So yeah, after that, she got sent to the principal’s office and didn’t come back to class, so I hope she got a well-earned punishment, that stupid bitch.” Right now, dad and I are dutifully listening to Kate rant on about a girl in her class who bullied another girl- who came out as lesbian- so much that the other girl started crying in the middle of class. Honestly, if I was the teacher, I’d have stopped it before it escalated into something so serious that the other girl started crying. Sexuality is not something to feel ashamed of, not to be ridiculed of. If you don’t accept it, or understand it, you do like my dad, and shut up about it because it’s nothing of his business, he doesn’t go around ridiculing other people (at least in front of them) for their sexuality.  
   
That’s one flaw that my dad has that I’ll probably never accept, he doesn’t understand gender identity or sexuality. Which is stupid, because 1) what’s there to understand, and 2) homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, and anything-else-related-to-this phobia is stupid, bigoted and unreasonable. Dad’s inability to understand this is the reason I will never come out to him, unless I absolutely need to, which I doubt I will. Dad doesn’t need to know about my bisexuality unless I fall for some guy, which I don’t have to worry about right now because I’m with Jamie.  
   
We entered a few clothing stores and I ended up buying some cool band t-shirts and three ripped jeans. After this, I won’t have money for the next three months, but at least I have new clothes to take with me for Spring Break in New York with mom.  
   
Around dusk, when the mall was closing, we finally left the mall to go home. It was a fairly short ride, and it only took us around fifteen minutes to arrive home, the sun fully gone by now.  
   
Once I was in my room, I wrote in Matt, Jamie and I’s group chat.  
   
9:30pm  
Me: heyy  
   
9:30pm  
Me: so the doc said that there’s nothing physically wrong w me  
   
9:21pm  
Me: he said that it’s probably that I fainted from lack of sleep or smthing, lmao  
   
9:31pm  
Me: idek, but at least that’s out of the way  
   
9:35pm  
Jamie: Thank god, omg, I was so worried  
   
9:36pm  
Matt: srsly, I thought u were gonna die or smthng  
   
9:36pm  
Matt: not rlly, but u kno  
   
9:38pm  
Me: yeah, so did my dad  
   
9:38pm  
Me: anyways, I’ll tell u guys more tomorrow, I still have to shower and pretend to go to sleep  
   
9:39pm  
Jamie: if u fainted from lack of sleep shouldn’t u be, idk, /sleeping/?  
   
9:39pm  
Matt: my thoughts exactly  
   
9:41pm  
Me: …  
   
9:41pm  
Me: yolo  
   
9:41pm  
Matt: did u just-  
   
9:41pm  
Jamie: UNACCEPTABLE  
   
9:42pm  
Jamie: NO   
   
9:42pm  
Jamie: STAHP   
   
9:42pm  
Jamie: HOW DARE U???????????  
   
9:42pm  
Jamie: U HEATHEN  
   
I started laughing loudly on my bed, their reactions whenever I did something like this, or bring up an old meme, is always worth it, they always sound so insulted. It’s hilarious.  
   
9:42pm  
Me: jk jk  
   
Not really.  
   
9:43pm  
Me: I’ll go to sleep after showering, dw  
   
9:43pm  
Me: love u, J (and obv Matt, love u too)  
   
9:43  
Me: gn, bye  
   
9:44pm  
Matt: Love u 2, hope u don’t faint again or something GN  
   
9:44pm  
Jamie: Love you too, gn  
   
After the conversation was over, I suddenly felt tired. Everything that happened since last night finally catching up on me, everything feels so wrong lately. Everything I say feels like a lie, even if I know for a fact that what I’m saying is true. I feel as though everything’s far away in a sense. Everything’s distanced. I don’t know how to explain it.  
   
I rubbed a hand over my face and ruffled my hair a bit, the black strands falling into my eyes. I need to get it trimmed before I leave for New York. My hair’s always been difficult, even though it’s straight and doesn’t have any type of curl, styling it has always been difficult work. A few months back, before starting high school, I decided that no, I’m not going to keep walking around in a wannabe mullet and shaved the sides and left the top long, hoping to look hotter, even though J always says that it just made me look cuter, at least it’s not a downgrade from where I was.  
   
I’m so tired.  
   
   
The next day, J, Matt and I talked about everything that went down, and they finally stopped pestering me about it. I fainted, everyone’s fainted at least once in their lives, I don’t see the big deal. Anyways, they made me recount the whole thing, which I obviously didn’t, it’s not important what brought me to the point of making me break down like that, nor that broke down, nor that I made myself throw up, and basically the whole story I told them was a small lie.  
   
It’s necessary, though, they don’t need to feel like they need to be worried about me, I’m fine now, it’s just been too stressful, and I broke under the pressure, nothing’s wrong with me. I’m fine, tired, but fine.  
   
   
It’s Saturday and Jamie and I decided that we’d go on a date before Spring Break. After sitting around in in her house for two hours because we’re lazy, we decided to go eat and after, we’d go to the movies, which she’d pay for because I paid last time and I don’t have money. She offered, so it’s not like I’m forcing her or anything.  
   
We ate at a small café where Jamie ordered a small vegan sandwich and I ordered a chocolate crepe.   
   
“This salad’s so good.” I smiled at Jamie as she stuffed her mouth full of lettuce and other colorful stuff. Seriously, why do vegan foods always look so colorful?   
   
“The crepe’s great too, okay, it’s just skinny.” We both looked down at my plate, laughing. The crepe was skinny; her salad is in a big plate filled to the brim, and my crepe’s basically the opposite of that. I can’t complain though, even though it’s small, it tasted amazing.  
   
We talked a little more for a while, until the movie was about to start, and we left, walking a few blocks to reach the movie theater.   
   
We were walking in silence, our hands entwined; a small, content smile in my mouth.  
   
“Nix?”  
   
“Hm?” I looked down at Jamie, stopping and looking at her. She smiled at me and held my other hand.  
   
“Love you” She leaned closer to me and kissed me. A small peck, and another one. Suddenly, she let go of my hands and put hers around my neck, me holding her waist and kissing her back. The kiss was soft and cute, that’s the only way to describe it. It lasted a few seconds longer and we separated, smiling at each other, a rare sparkle in her eye, and we kept walking. Finally, we arrived, and, after Jamie bought the tickets and I bought the snacks with the little money my dad decided I could survive the month with.   
   
I love spending time with Jamie, she’s so nice all the time and she always tried to understand. Sure, she sometimes doesn’t know when to stop asking why or how, but most of the time, she’s just doing it out of concern. Jamie’s the best, she’s always so modest just- ugh. She’s just perfect in my eyes. She’s the only reason I’m happy right now. I love her so much.  
   
   
   
We saw the movie, I cried, Jamie cried, why did we choose that movie again? It was one of those happy-sad movies that you cry in, but they have a happy ending that either doesn’t make sense, or it does. It was plain sad most of the time, to be honest.  
   
“That was so cute! Did you see how they looked at each other in the end? It looked so hopeful, like, ‘We can survive this!’ type of look, I loved it.” Jamie was basically at the ‘Heart eyed anime character’ level by now, she’s been gushing over their last look since we left the movies. Apparently, it gave hope. To me, it gave me sadness. Why do people like these movies?  
   
“Yeah, yeah, it was great. It’s too sad though, for them to be so hopeful even though we knew they weren’t going to make it.” I said this, not thinking it would create war.  
   
“What the hell, Nix? It’s supposed to be like that, the point is that after all that drama and all those hardships, they still had hope at the end.” Jamie was seething when she finished that sentence, glaring at me.  
   
“Yes, well, life’s not like that. One does not just wake up one day, after being raped, beat, tortured and who knows what else thinking ‘let me start to hope, after all my life’s been one big dump of bullshit’.” I glared right back at her, the movie was stupid, yes, it sends a message about how everything will get better, but, newsflash, most of the time it won’t. From experience, I knew it wont.  
   
“It can be, if you hope for things to get better and work for them, it’ll pay off.”  
   
“That doesn’t happen in real life, J. You can hope for things and you can be working towards that one particular goal your whole life and you’ll die, what did you accomplish? Nothing.” I crossed my arms while saying this, a memory that I do not want to remember right on the brink of flooding my mind, threatening me, warning me.  
   
“Okay, but it’s not always like that, Nix. Sometimes it does work, when did you get so pessimistic?” Jamie’s eyes softened. I saw it in the way the furrow in her eyebrows disappeared.  
   
‘Always’ this is the truthful answer, ever since I was small and that happened I’ve been like this. A bitter smile found its way to my face ‘Hadn’t you noticed?’. My hands still in front of me, giving what little comfort and warmth they could. Calming down enough, I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Stop it.  
   
“No idea, probably the teenage angst.” I smiled at her, hopeful that for once my eyes wouldn’t sell me off, and maybe she didn’t notice, maybe she decided to ignore it, but she smiled back, and we kept walking to her home, everything else seemingly forgotten.  
   
   
   
That night, at my house, while I was on my bed, I felt scared. I don’t know why, but something’s staring at me and it won’t stop. At least, it felt like that. It’s in the corner next to my TV and it’s staring at me. I can see the silhouette and it’s there, in the corner, staring…waiting… Making me feel exposed, naked, vulnerable...  
   
Tears are slipping out of my eyes hoping that my dad or sister would come into my bedroom to make this thing stop staring at me. I can feel its eyes raking up and down my body, it’s making me feel as if I were back on that night when everything happened. …what if its him? No, it can’t be, he’s in jail, he’s not even in this state.   
   
I whimper, through the small opening in my lid, I can see it moving in the shadows, ready to pounce at any moment. Softly, I could hear it start whispering to me, it’s voice silky and smooth, unintelligible, but there. It’s there, it’s going to do something. I can hear it whispering, planning…but I can’t hear it, I can’t understand it.  
   
I open my eyes, a small scream escaping me, it was in front of me, it’s eyes a deep brown looking down at me from it’s height. I can’t scream, it’s going to kill me, and I can’t scream, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.  
   
It slowly inched back into the shadows, my door opening slowly to reveal my father.  
   
“Nixon? Why did you scream?” He looked at me from the door before turning on the light and inching closer. I quickly looked over at the corner, hoping to see it there so my dad could…so something, but there’s nothing there, there’s absolutely nothing there. It was there a second ago. It almost looked like…him.  
   
“I-I” I winced as my voice cracked, the pounding of my heart not slowing down even as I kept staring at the corner, there’s nothing there, but I can still feel its eyes looking at me.  
   
“Nixon?” I looked at my dad quickly, my eyes going back to the corner quickly and back to my dad, it’s too much. An endless string of ‘What?’ crawling through my mind, faster and faster with each second past.  
   
“I, um, I thought I saw him there, in the corner…there’s nothing there right? There’s nothing there? Dad?” Why isn’t he answering me? I looked over at dad, his eyes full of concern, looking at me questioningly.  
   
“Him? Nixon…are you talking about him? He’s not here, he’s in jail, he’s been in jail for six years and he’s never coming out, your mother an I made sure of that."  
   
No, dad doesn’t understand. He was just here, he was watching me from the corner. He’s here, he’s in the house- he’s in the house.  
   
“D-dad, no, he’s here, I saw him, he was right there in the corner looking at me.” I pointed at it, as if the mere action would make him understand. He’s here.  
   
Dad grabbed my outstretched arm by the wrist and hugged it to his own chest. I could feel the heavy thumps of his heart.  
   
“Nixon…he’s in jail, there’s nobody here…nobody has entered or closed, the windows are completely closed.” His voice was closer to a whisper than it was to his normal tone.  
   
“But…he was here, I could see him- he was staring at me.” As I said this, I realized how stupid I’m being. He’s in jail and he has been for years but, he was staring at me just earlier…in the corner…  
   
My gaze traveled over too the corner again, inspecting. There’s nothing there, but I was sure a few minutes ago that he was here, staring at me.  
   
I looked back at my dad, questioningly. I’m so confused. The feeling of being watched still clings to my body, making me uncomfortable. There’s nobody here though.   
   
…What was it I saw then? Maybe a night terror? But…I was awake. I’m so confused. What’s happening? Am I going crazy?  
   
I’m not crazy. I saw him there, he was here, he was looking at me life before, he was here. I looked at my dad, sobs racking my body from where I curled up into a fetal position, my head on my knees. A sudden warmth surrounds me, my father’s arms enveloping me and pressing me to his chest.  
   
“Nix, it was probably a nightmare, he’s in jail, he’s not here, shh…shh, calm down, he’s not here.” His large hands rubbing my back makes me feel better, though my constant glancing at the corner is not ceasing, I saw him. God, what the hell is happening to me? I haven’t had a dream about this in years.  
   
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, I probably dreamed all of it, I-I’m sorry.” Dad laid down on the bed next to me; I fall back next to him and cuddle into his chest, I can’t stop crying, this is so pathetic and embarrassing.  
   
“Nix, it’s okay. It’s not your fault what that bastard did to you, it was sick, and it’s absolutely not your fault.” Dad’s voice seems choked, as though he was holding back his tears. I’m so stupid, why did I have to start bringing this up years later? I should be over this by now, its been years since it happened.  
   
I still remember when it happened, detail by detail. My mind forcing me to recall even as I vehemently tried to push the memory back. My eyesight suddenly blanked, flashes of images appearing suddenly, a memory coming to the front of my mind and drowning all of my other senses, making me only able to focus on it, as if it were a movie playing inside my mind.  
   
Young Nixon, seven years old is walking out of school, happily running with his sister into his Uncle Hector’s car. Uncle Hector’s the coolest uncle ever, he babysits us from Monday to Friday on the afternoons while mom and dad were working. He always takes us to the movies and to get ice cream (without mom’s permission obviously [she’s vegan and always tries to get us to eat less animal food]). Kate and I get in the car, the music – Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day – sounding loudly, just like Uncle Hector always likes it.  
   
Uncle Hector smiles as they get in, “We’re going home today, but I have a surprise for you, Nixon.” This made me exited, Uncle Hector always gets me awesome surprises, almost always including games we play.   
   
That day, when we reached the house, Kate stayed downstairs eating and chatting with her friends on the phone. Uncle Hector entered my bedroom, wailing until I got in to close the door behind himself and putting on the lock. I found this slightly weird, but didn’t question it, maybe he didn’t want Kate to come in and ruing the game.  
   
Uncle Hector patted the bed next to him where he sat down. I sat down next to him, looking at him expectantly while waiting for him to give me my surprise.  
   
“So, Uncle Hector…what’s the surprise?” I smiled at him, my canine tooth missing.   
   
“This surprise is going to be a little bit different, Nixon. You can’t tell anyone about it, especially your parents.” This got me a little confused, why wouldn’t I be able to tell my parents?  
   
“Is it bad?” I looked at Uncle Hector worried, I don’t want to be ungrateful…but I don’t want to be a bad child either.  
   
“No, it’s more like the ice cream, it’s okay, but your parents won’t agree.” Oh, I understand. At least it’ll probably be fun, Uncle Hector always makes games fun.  
   
“Ohhhhhh, okay. So, what is it?” I smiled up at Uncle Hector again, all my previous hesitation gone.   
   
“Before I tell you, I need you to promise me you won’t tell anybody, though, you’re a good boy, you can do that, right? Promise me.” His words sounded nice, but underneath laid a threat which I didn’t pick up on until years later.  
   
“I promise, I promise. Can you please tell me now what it is?” I rolled my eyes at Uncle Hector expectantly, his chuckle accompanied with a hand ruffling my hair.  
   
“I’m going to need you to do something for me, though, can you do that?” I looked up at Uncle Hector, nodding quickly at him, of course.  
   
“You need to take your clothes off, but don’t worry, you can leave you underwear on.” This struck me as weird, my innocent mind not finding anything wrong with it, but also nothing right either. Uncle Hector’s disarming smile had me agreeing though. “I’ll even do the same, so you don’t feel weird.”  
   
We took off our clothes in silence, doubt starting to resurface on my mind again as I turned around to look at Uncle Hector, now sitting on the bed again with nothing except his boxers on. A weird smile on his handsome face, his blue eyes traveling down my body, a predatory look in his eyes- which at the time, I didn’t notice.  
   
“Come here.” I slowly moved forward, his outstretched arms prompting me “Here, sit on my lap, yeah like that.” A weird noise escaped his mouth, and I was suddenly scared. A whimper escaping my mouth as I felt something poking my behind. The urge to cry overtook me and a few tears fell.  
   
“Uncle…I don’t like this, can we stop?” I tried to turn around to look at Uncle Hector in his eyes, but the death grip which his hands had on my tiny hips was unrelenting. My eyes widened as another noise escaped his mouth, this one more growl-like before he started moving his lips against my bottom, a rhythm quickly falling into place as he made me move with the grip he had on my hips- grinding me against his crotch in time with his thrusts.  
   
“You feel so good, baby, so good.” He dug his face in my neck, another groan escaping his body as he went faster, sloppy movements replacing the previously set rhythm. Sobs were now freely leaving my body, Uncle Hector’s hand moving down there and starting to fondle it.   
   
“Please stop…” If anything, it made him go faster, a weird tingling in my crotch making me cry even harder. Uncle Hector kept going, his thrusts getting erratic, until a sharp cry left his lips and he stopped moving, pushing my body downwards, pushed against his crotch until he finally let me go and I crumbled to the floor, a crying, slobbering mess.  
   
Uncle Hernan grabbed my arm harshly, careful enough to not leave bruises, but hard enough to be a threat.  
   
“Remember, Nixon, you promised you wouldn’t tell anybody. Are you going to be a good boy and keep your promise?” His friendly smile didn’t fit well with the glare in his eyes, making me whimper and nod quickly, I was going to be a good boy.  
   
“Good, this can be our secret little game.”  
   
I gasped like a drowning man, jerking away from the arms holding me. That was one of the first times my uncle did anything to me. I felt hands on my arms, tight – I wrenched them back. Leave me alone, don’t touch me, don’t touch me.  
   
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed and blindly threw a punch, feeling my fist land on something hard, my father’s groan bringing me back into reality.   
   
‘The corner’   
   
I quickly looked into the side, a face glaring back at me from the wall. His face staring back, Uncle Hector’s face. His blue eyes flashing for a second and his friendly smile dropping into a scowl before it disappeared and there was only the wall again. I gasped some more, not enough air reaching my lungs, a burning feeling spreading though my whole chest.  
   
I’m going to die, I’m going to die.  
   
“-xon! Nixon!” I looked to the side, my father’s face the only thing grounding me to reality. Everything else seemed to be spinning and flashing. He reached towards me, taking my stillness as an agreement and enveloping me in a hug. Putting my head in his chest, the only thing reaching my ears is the unsteady pounding of his hears, the steady rise and fall of his chest bringing back memories from when we used to do this constantly when I was young.  
   
“You’re in your room, Nixon- follow my breathing, Nix, yeah, that’s it- we’re alone in here. Your room is painted grey, the red curtains giving it that ‘grungy’ look you always said you wanted when we were remodeling. Your bedsheets are black, red and white. You’re dressed in a red oversized hoodie and black pajama pants with tiny cats all over them- you always wear these, why- anyways, there’s a mess on top of your nightstand, you have your headphones, your speaker, three cups-“Dad kept going for a while, talking and describing things inside my room. A tactic we used when I was young and used to have constant panic attacks. The talking helped keep me grounded and listening to his breathing helps me be able to normalize my breath. That hadn’t happened in so long, the hallucinating his face in the corner is new, but the flashbacks used to happen all the time when I was younger, this is the first one I’ve had in years, I honestly thought they were gone for good. Apparently, my PTSD has been there, lurking in the corner all this time waiting for that one trigger.  
   
About an hour later, my dad got up from the bed.  
   
“I’m going to make you an appointment from a psychologist- no, it’s not an option- tomorrow and you’ll go after Spring Break. Also, I’m going to go sleep right now and if anything, and I mean anything happens again, I want you to call me immediately. We’re talking about this tomorrow also.” With that, he turned off the lights after a nod from me and exited the bedroom and I dug myself under my bedsheets, the images of Uncle Hector still haunting my brain, the image of his face on the wall flashing in my mind whenever I so much as closed my eyes.  
   
‘What was that? Am I going crazy? What’s happening to me?’ Those questions circled around my mind as I broke down sobbing on my bed again, half my mind wanting to call my dad back in, but I don’t want to bother him again, he looked tired- ready to drop, tired. I can’t burden him with this again, after he spent close to two hours with me already, because my stupid self decided to fuck up and make me revisit those memories I’d spent so long suppressing.   
   
‘What’s wrong with you?’


	6. Catharsis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags are there for a reason, so please read them before continuing this chapter. There will be lots of triggering content in this chapter. Please, I beg all of you, proceed with caution.  
> WARNINGS:  
> \- Child rape  
> \- Mental breakdown  
> \- Psychotic episode  
> \- Depression  
> \- Self harm  
> \- Vomit

Anxiety’s making my stomach feel as though it were tied in knots. Hoping that it would help appease the feeling in my stomach, I reached over to my little speaker and put the song ‘Skin’ by Sixx:A.M., it’s my go-to song whenever I feel sad. It isn’t relaxing me, it’s just making me feel worse, but I still won’t turn it off, I like the lyrics.  
   
A sob tears itself out of my throat, shaking my whole body with it’s force. My hands start trembling, tears running down my face at an alarming speed.   
   
I’m such an idiot. I’m so stupid.  
   
Choked sobs fall from my mouth, my sniffling not working anymore, my nose clogged from the snot, just as my heart’s clogged from these many emotions that just don’t seem to stop. I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore, everything’s mixed together, tremors racking down my body, anxiety and panic manifesting themselves in me, that sensation of having to throw up getting stronger and stronger. I don’t deserve Jamie, I don’t deserve her love, I don’t deserve Matt’s love, I don’t deserve anything, I don’t even deserve the calmness of death. I’m going to throw up- I don’t want to get up, I don’t deserve to feel comfortable while another, better person somewhere isn’t feeling comfortable, I’m below that person, I don’t deserve all these nice things. I don’t, I don’t.  
   
Why am I such a bad person? Why am I like this, why can’t I be better? Why am I alive? Why does no one want to tell me the truth, why does everything have to swirl around a big lie, that doesn’t make sense? What even is the lie? Why does everyone need to lie, I’m a bad person, I hate this, I hate everything, I hate myself. Stop, stop, stop! I want to die, what even am I? I’m a horrible being, I can’t be a human, I’m too ugly for that, I’m too much of a monster to be a human. I deserve punishment for everything I’ve done- maybe this is it. Maybe all I’m doing is my punishment, all I’m doing right now is part of a bigger plan, everything’s their fault. It’s all their fault, their fault, their fault. No, it’s my fault for being bad- I’m horrible, I’m a liar, I’m a monster and it’s their fault.  
   
A sharp pain, makes me cry out, I rolled out of my bed. ‘Good, you don’t deserve that comfort’   
   
I don’t deserve it anyways. I’m such a failure, it’s them making me this way, what are they?  
   
I get up quickly and run out of my room, throwing the door open and throwing myself inside the bathroom, bending over, nothing comes out. It feels so uncomfortable, I need to throw up. I need to get rid of this thing thrashing up my insides, making me feel corrupted, toxic. I need it out, it’s inside me and it’s taking over, it will if I don’t get it out, now. I need it out- out, I need it out.  
   
In my panic, everything seemed conflated, my eyes finding the toothbrush, fixing themselves on it as though it were their cynosure. I slowly sat up, a murmurous thing telling me to ‘pick it up, you know what to do, I can guide you through it, it’ll be worth it, you deserve the pain, you deserve it.’  
   
I’m a monster, I deserve it.  
   
I grabbed it, my thumb moving over the blunt end of the handle.  
   
An intense feeling moved through me. It’s consuming me, I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, it won’t let me, I can’t. Make it stop.  
   
‘You know how to stop it.’  
   
Bent over the toilet seat, I shoved the end of my toothbrush into my throat, the pain clearing my head a little bit. For a second, the suddenness of the bile rushing on my throat almost took me off guard, but I managed to bend over and throw up into the toilet. A coughing fit suddenly overtakes me, loud and hurting. I realize that tears haven’t stopped rushing down my face, a glance down making me wince and hold my head, sudden dizziness washing over me, my coughing turning into crying. I slide down the wall into the floor, the motion making me feel more pathetic than ever.  
   
Why? It’s still there, the feeling inside me isn’t gone, how…why?  
   
I feel like screaming, all of this for nothing? Why didn’t it work? It’s their fault, it’s all their fault. Why isn’t the feeling gone? I need it gone. Please…  
   
‘You know what to do, you monster. You know what you need to do.’  
   
A glance down at the cabinet underneath the sink, the image of my sister’s pack of razors, my dad’s sleeping pills…I look to the side, imagining, the tub…  
   
My thoughts whirring, is this what it takes? I shouldn’t, I should, ‘they’re controlling you, break free, this is your chance, all you must do is…make a move. Open the cabinet, pick it up…do it.’  
   
Another sob escapes my mouth. I blink hard and suddenly its as if I was looking at myself from outside. I’m not me, that’s not me. Those blue bloodshot eyes aren’t mine, and that red, blotchy, slightly round face isn’t mine, it’s not mine. That’s not me. It isn’t, I’m not, I’m not, I’m not, I’m not, I’M NOT! STOP!  
   
There’s a roaring in my head, it’s outside, it’s everywhere, it won’t stop, stop. I’m back in my body, the sensation feels more wrong than anything else I’ve ever experienced.  
   
“Nixon?” what, it’s not real, don’t look up, it’s them, it’s them.  
   
“Who’s ‘them’? Nixon, you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?” A hand suddenly grasps his own, thin and fragile, human. Flesh, normal, human, like me. I’m normal, I’m normal, I’m normal.  
   
I look up, my sister’s face stares back at me through the darkness, concern evident in her face, I don’t have the energy to assure her…I’m tired, I’m so tired.  
   
“Did you throw up? Do you feel sick still? Oh god, you’re crying, what’s wrong, does anything hurt?”   
   
I almost hurt myself…I made myself throw up…what happened? I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m not okay.  
   
“Nixon! Talk to me, or nod or something. Do you still feel sick?” Kate’s voice was starting to sound frantic, my eyes finally focusing enough to see her, kneeling beside me, her eyes wet with unshed tears.  
   
I shook my head, I never felt sick in the first place, I did this myself, shit, I did this myself. What was that? Why did the happen? Is that normal? It can’t be, what happened? Am I going crazy, everything felt weird for that time, it was like a different reality from now, completely different.  
   
“Ok, ok…where’s your toothbrush? Shit, it’s in the toilet, how the fuck did it get there?”  
   
“Um…I knocked it over.” My voice croaked, and I winced, my whole throat felt like I imagine deep-throating a dick felt like, in a way I just did, but with my toothbrush, does that count? At this, I couldn’t hold it in and ended up barking out a laugh. It was more sudden and harsh than it was happy, but I still felt amused, it just felt funny. Looking up and seeing my sister’s alarmed face, I shouldn’t have laughed.   
   
“Sorry, it’s just the toothbrush, um…” I realized that I couldn’t really tell her about this, I couldn’t tell anyone. Thankfully, she took it another way and smiled at me tiredly.  
   
“Yeah, I guess that’s pretty funny. I am not going to put my hand in there, I’m flushing it and hoping for the best.” While she did that, I leaned over and opened the cabinet, looking inside for one of the spare toothbrushes we kept down here, taking it, but before I could close it, my eyes found the packets of razors, one for my sister, one for my dad and me.  
   
I almost…  
‘Do it.’ No! I shut closed the cabinet with more force than needed, ignoring Kate’s questioning gaze and slowly getting up to wash my mouth.  
   
“I’m going to go get dad, wait here a minute.” No! He doesn’t need to see me here, this is pathetic.  
   
“No, it’s-“I was cut off by my own coughing, the scratchiness of my voice making me feel way too much as if I was sick.  
   
“Shut up and wash your mouth, I’m getting him anyways, you’re sick.” You have no idea.  
   
I wash my mouth and my face, realizing that while that happened, I sweated way too much. When I finish all, my dad comes in with my sister, his tired blue eyes making my stomach drop with guilt, he’s been an insomniac for years now and seldom does he get any good sleep, and here I have to go and fuck up on the night he’s sleeping okay for once.  
   
“Nix? Are you still feeling sick?”  
   
Always.  
   
“No, I’m better now, something must’ve not sit well with me.”  
   
I tried to look my dad in his eyes, I really did, but the intensity I saw with which he was looking at me felt like too much, I couldn’t lie while looking at his eyes, so alike mine, only mine probably reflected all the broken emotions that are swirling inside me right now.  
   
‘Failure.’  
   
My heart sank. What?   
   
…what?  
   
What?  
   
“What?”  
   
“Nix! Seriously, are you okay? What’s wrong with you?” What? What was that? What’s going on? It’s all their fault isn’t it? This isn’t me, it’s their fault, I need to warn them, they’re in danger, no, stop!  
   
“What?”  
   
“Nixon!” My name was like a whisper breaking through the darkness inside my mind, before it consumed me, eating me whole and refusing to let go.  
   
   
The next thing I know, I’m waking up on my bed, the sheets around me making a sound escape me in comfort. It’s so good. What happened…?  
   
My eyes snap open, the memories of what happened before I presumably fainted crashing into my mind making me wince, what the hell did I do? That was so stupid.  
   
“Nix…?” My dad’s voice broke through the weight on my head, making me take in my surroundings. I’m on my bed, my dad having probably carried me here (losing his back in the process) and – from a quick look at my window – it’s still night. Hopefully I wasn’t asleep that long. I shouldn’t have made my family worry like this, dad probably already called mom and she’s sitting worried in New York waiting for him to call her back.  
   
“Wait a second, Elizabeth, I think he’s waking up – here, Kate, talk with your mom a little bit.” This almost made me laugh, I can imagine perfectly the way he held the phone out to my sister without paying much attention to either the phone or her- mostly because he always gives me the phone when he does that, which is often. He just basically never wants to talk on the phone, so he just hands it off to the nearest person, it being me most of the time.  
   
I felt his hand brush the side of my head, me opening my eyes to look at him. His concern filled eyes finding mine and looking frantically, as if just by looking at me he could figure out what was wrong and fix it.  
   
“Hey” A loud cough escapes me, making me wince and sit up, the sensation of choking, overwhelming me the more I stayed laid down. About two minutes later, I finally felt ‘ok’ enough to try and talk again, my dad sitting on the side of the bed looking at me, mom’s frantic voice sounding as though it were on speaker from how hard she was screaming.  
   
“José, José, I swear to fucking god, if you don’t tell me what’s happening right now- is he okay? Are you okay, Nix? Baby, answer me please, since your dad’s and asshole.”   
   
A small, amused smile appeared in my face, my dad’s expression soon copying mine. Mom will never change, I’m so thankful for her.  
   
“Hey mom, yeah, I’m awake now…what happened?” I looked at my dad for the last part, I honestly don’t remember much. I know that I probably fainted, but everything else seems so out of reality, it feels like a dream, but on that isn’t slipping away. It’s there, but it seems so…not real.  
   
“Your sister came to get me, yelling about how you were crying in the bathroom and had thrown up everything. When I went there, you seemed fine for a few minutes while you cleaned your face, and then you froze, completely, for a few seconds. You didn’t respond to anything, I’m calling your name, and just as suddenly, you look all confused and disoriented before you fainted.” Oh, okay. That sounds weird, I don’t remember freezing up or anything, I just remember hearing something, feeling really confused and fainting. When I vocalized this, dad looked at me closely for a second and sighed.  
   
“I honestly thought you were going to start having a seizure, you just froze and fell, it was so much like whenever your uncle Alex has a seizure, I was terrified.” My eyes widened, dad’s eyes were filling up with tears, a few falling down his cheeks before he held me tightly to his chest, me hugging him back tightly because dad almost never cries and when he does, it’s terrifying in a completely different way than anyone may think. My dad, the strong man that my dad is, breaking down because of something I stupidly did is terrifying.  
   
I could see Kate getting on the bed as well, hugging dad’s other side, him holding both of us now, his tears diminishing, but his round eyes still looking bloodshot and tired.  
   
“I’m sorry dad.”  
   
“No, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault at all, don’t you dare apologize, you just got really sick and I got scared because I’m your dad and it’s my job to be scared for you, but don’t you dare apologize. It’s not your fault.” Dad took the phone back from Kate while he said this, mom’s hum of affirmation making a warm feeling spread around my chest – which I hadn’t realized was so cold – and a smile to spread on my face.  
   
“Okay.”  
   
Dad, obviously, proceeded to put on a stern face and say: “Don’t you even think that you’re going to school, either of you.” His glare was potent enough to make Kate and I look at each other in the eyes and gulp.   
   
“…okay,”  
   
A little later, Kate left for her bedroom and dad - after hanging up with mom, who asked me about a million questions I had wither to evade or answer truthfully - hugged me one last time and got off from my bed, leaving out the door and – for once – closing it behind him.  
   
What happened to me last night? That had never happened to me before, at least, not to the extent where I felt compelled to do things, as if something…external was guiding me to doing it.   
   
Is someone controlling me? I knew they were at fault, it’s all their fault, I have to stop them…how? They can’t keep doing this.  
   
Somewhere around my monologue, I fell asleep. The black shadows around my bed bringing one final discomfort before the darkness of sleep overtook me.  
   
That morning, getting up was a struggle. Later it came to my attention that we went to sleep around four in the morning, to get up at eight because dad got me an appointment at nine, it’s horrible. I know I threw up and I know that you don’t know that I made myself throw up but, we’re all supposed to be tired today. Thankfully, I don’t have to go to school and socialize today, I don’t think I’d be able to be normal at this hour with having slept only four hours and having had the mother of breakdowns last night.  
   
I’m sitting on my bed right now, wondering if I can just go back to sleep and we can arrive late at the doctor’s, if I didn’t know for a fact that my dad will kill me if I do that, I’d have done it already. I’m so tired. What I don’t understand is why exactly, sure, I only slept four hours and had a breakdown, but I’ve spent whole nights awake and go to school the next day without much issue. I don’t know. All I do know is that I’m not going to tell anyone about what happened, I’m fine now, that was just a stress induced breakdown from my coming out to J failure.  
   
“Nixon! Hurry the fuck up!”  
   
Okay, we’re probably late already. I quickly take my grey sweatpants, light pink sweatshirt and white converse, today I’m feeling the Tumblr/Pinterest vibe (don’t judge me), plus, sweatpants are my go-to for doctor’s appointments, just because they’re comfortable and most of the time when I’m going to a doctor’s appointment, I’m not healthy enough to get all dressed up in jeans and tees with jackets, ugh, no, that’s too much color coordination and planning.  
   
I’m so hungry again, I’m getting fat, I was really skinny about two weeks ago, I’m weird.  
   
“NIXON!”  
   
“COMING!” I quickly ran out of my room and to the front door, closing it with my pair of keys and jumping up into the backseat of the car (my sister always gets shotgun for the fact that she’s older, not fair, but it is).  
   
“What the hell took you so long you fuck? I did my make up and was still faster than you.” Kate rolled her eyes in my direction, a sharp feeling or pure irritation making my hand twitch, desperate to hit something, but no, because hitting things is stupid and hitting Kate is stupid as well because that’ll hurt my hand and I’m not feeling up to it to day- also, she hits really hard and my body is experiencing chronic pains at the moment, so, no.  
   
“Well pardon me, I was showering and trying not to die or something in there from slipping.” We both snorted at this, not because of the dying part (though something morbid inside me [which I decided not to acknowledge] felt elated at the thought of dying), but because one time, when I was younger- about nine or ten, before we moved out- I was showering and while trying to reach the bar of soap, I slipped and hit my head on the corner of the shower cracking my head open, at the time, this was very terrifying. Now we just laugh about it, because that’s proof that I’ve always been stubborn; instead of yelling for mom or dad to come and hand me the bar of soap, I decided that “No, I’m big enough to do this, I’m older now” and promptly fell and almost died (not really, but it felt like it at the moment). Anyways, now we just joke about it.  
   
“Why are we going to the doctor again? I only threw up a little, and maybe fainted for a few minutes, that’s not a big deal.” I bit my lip, knowing that my attempt to get out of this are futile, but I still tried anyways. I hate being “sick”, even though I’m not, but still.  
   
“Because it’s not normal or someone to just go…and freeze up like that, Nix. If you had just thrown up, I’d just give you oatmeal and you go on with your day like normal, but Nix, you froze up, you didn’t answer and then you fainted after throwing up, there could be something seriously wrong, and it’s best for us to go now that’s its just shown up than to wait and suddenly you have cancer or something.” I couldn’t help but look down ashamed, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m fine though, everything will show up fine in the check-up.  
   
“Ok, ok. I’m sorry”  
   
A few minutes later, while we were arriving at the office, my phone rang, and I could see Matt’s name flashing on the screen. Well, I feel bad admitting that I completely forgot to inform my best friend, and girlfriend that I wasn’t going to school today. Wow, what a great friend you are, Nixon, amazing, really. I shook my head, willing the tiny voice condescending me and answered the phone, putting it up to my ear.  
   
“Hello?”   
   
“Bitch, the fuck are you?” I winced a little at their tone, knowing fully well that they’re mad and if the sound in the background is anything to go by, they probably have the phone on speaker with Jamie listening silently next to them- lurking, basically, but in real life.  
   
“Sorry I forgot to call, Matt, it’s just that, well…I fainted last night after throwing up so dad wants to take me to the doctor, I just forgot to call you because I’m really tired, you have no idea.” I hope this satisfies them enough, I’m not about to go full disclosure on all that happened last night. Not now, not ever.  
   
“Oh shit, dude, are you okay now, though?” The worry in their voice is making me want to cringe, I don’t need for people to be worried about me, I don’t fucking deserve it.  
   
“Yeah, I’m better now, it’s just in case.” By now, dad had parked he car and we were getting off, walking up to the front door of the office, dad going inside to talk with the receptionist and me staying outside a little bit with strict orders of: “End the phone call, they’ll call us inside in a little while.”  
   
“Ah, yeah, understandable.”  
   
“Uh, yeah, I have to go now because we’re already here and you know how my dad is with cell phones, so I have to go, and I’ll call you both later.” We quickly said our goodbyes after this, Jamie’s being said after her surprise passed, ending up with giggles from both of them, of course I knew.  
   
I walked into the office and sat next to my dad who had already put on his reading glasses and was looking at a random Men’s Health magazine, probably from seven years ago.  
   
I was starting to regret having ended the call and entering by the second hour I was sitting there, bored to another level and questioning my life choices while I played Color Switch on my phone. Seriously, there is literally nobody else here, what is the necessity of wasting two hours doing absolutely nothing.  
   
About three years later- more like an hour, but three years is basically the same- a woman with big glasses came out and called my name. My dad stood up and walked over to her, me only a few steps behind him, when the lady says it’s just to check my height and weight, that I could go back to sitting after that. Is she serious? I might have to commit arson.  
   
Around one in the afternoon, the doctor came out and finally called my name. By now, I’m regretting not having eaten breakfast, not bringing a gun, and generally just regretting being alive.   
   
Dad and I go over to the office thing, and I sit down on the table (it was cold, my butt is now cold). There is nobody else in here, why must the doctor take four hours to call my name and see if I’m dying or something, why? A man in a lab coat came into the small office. His brown hair trimmed close to his head, glasses perched on his nose giving him a slightly smart look, not sure why, it just did. His brown eyes swept around the office until he looked at my dad and smiled, sitting down in one of the chairs and talking to my dad about what happened, him looking disinterestedly at me before standing up and trying but failing to smile nicely.  
   
“So, Nixon, anymore nausea, headaches, dizziness, difficulty breathing?” The doctor, Dr. Quinn asked me while walking towards me, I looked at my dad, do I have to talk? Is that necessary?  
   
“Don’t look at me, I can’t guess how you’re feeling.”  
   
I rolled my eyes at dad, he always does the same thing. “No, I haven’t felt anything since.” Dr. Quinn nodded, taking a stethoscope and putting it – shit, it’s cold – on my chest and telling me to take deep breaths.   
   
“Okay…nothing out of the ordinary, open up.” I opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out, and looking awkwardly to the side because my other option was staring at the doctor in the face while I stuck my tongue out and…no, I refuse.  
   
“Okay, a little irritated, but that’s probably from throwing up.” I relaxed, my shoulders dropping from where they had tensed. For a second, I thought he’d know and that was also not an option, he couldn’t know, nobody can know.  
   
“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, the best plausible option is that you somehow got a virus from the food and fainted because of shock.” My eyebrows were probably up to my hairline by now, he made me wait four hours outside to tell me this, that ‘the best plausible option’, what the hell? I mean, I’m thankful he’s so half assed, but there are probably a lot of parents who came here with concern in their minds and left with thoughts of murder and knives, lots of knives.  
   
‘Knives…’  
   
“What?” I looked over at the door, but nobody’s there. Kate stayed outside in the waiting room and the nurse was nowhere nearby. I’m sure I heard a woman’s voice…the nurse probably walked over quickly looking for knives…lunch break? I’m so confused.  
   
“Nixon?” My father’s voice startled me enough to jump a little, his eyes were glazed over with concern, looking from the door and back to me, looking for whatever I looked so startled at.  
   
“Yeah? Sorry, I thought I heard something, probably just tired.” I looked back at Dr. Quinn, trying to ignore my father’s gaze, he’d know I was lying even though I’m not even sure if I am, I did hear something, but yeah, I’ve heard lack of sleep can cause one to be jumpy. If my dark circles are anything to go by, I’m probably more than sleep deprived.  
   
“Are you not sleeping, Nixon?” The doctor looked at me closely for the first time since we arrived, probably now assessing my dark circles for the first time, ‘Wow, what a way to make me feel pretty’. I almost noted at that thought.  
   
“Um, no. I either sleep too much or not at all.” Dr. Quinn looked thoughtful for a few seconds before he turned to my father.  
   
“Any family history of sleeping problems that you know about, Mr. Farely?” Dad looked startled for a second before he looked at Dr. Quinn sheepishly.  
   
“Yeah, I’ve been an insomniac since I was a teenager, I have pills for it now.” Dr. Quinn looked weirdly happy at this information, looking at me and dad both quickly, before opening his mouth.  
   
“That could be a source of the dizziness, sleep deprivation can make people dizzy and disoriented, that coupled with the strain in the body after throwing up probably is the reason why Nixon here fainted last night.” Dr. Quinn looked way to proud at his hypothesis, considering it’s just that, a hypothesis, and a wrong one at that. I won’t argue about anything though, my dad looks satisfied with the answer, him turning to me quickly.  
   
“Is it too bad though? Do you think you need to get medication, we can go talk to my doctor, your old psychologist?” I blushed a little looking down, my dad’s psychologist is so hot. How did I not know I’m bisexual? That man is the definition of a Greek god. I’m so bi. Fuck, okay, focus, calm, calm. But my old psychologist…no, that woman would bring back too may memories I’ve worked too hard to repress.  
   
“No…it’s normalized a bit lately, I’ve been sleeping a lot more these last days.” But I never feel rested. I bit my tongue on that last part, I’m not about to tell them this, it’s basically me digging myself a bigger hole.  
   
“Okay…” My dad still didn’t look convinced, but I made myself hold eye contact and look at him as seriously as I could, he needs to understand that I’m fine. He doesn’t need to be worrying over me when he’s got more important things to worry about, besides, last night was a one-time thing, I’m fine now.   
   
From the small furrow in my dad’s brow, I noticed – exasperatedly – that he still didn’t looked convinced. I rolled my eyes playfully at dad and offered him a smile in his direction, hoping it was disarming enough to get him off my back. After a few seconds of pondering and looking at me, dad threw a grin my way and turned back to Dr. Quinn who either was oblivious to the whole interaction, or just didn’t care. I love my smile, it’s the only thing about my face that I like, I got graced with my father’s straight teeth, just not the straight of straightness of gay…stuff, I just confused myself. Either way, I prefer being bisexual and have straight teeth, than being straight and having to wear braces, that looked like it hurt.  
   
Anyways, getting back on topic; my dad nodded at something Dr. Quinn said, them talking about a few options if for whatever reason my sleep patterns start getting worse again. A few more mandatory questions including heavy blushing and sadistic smirking from my dad, and we could finally leave. That was basically half an hour, which brings me back to my previous question: What was the necessity of making us wait for a million years outside in the waiting room, if the appointment was going to be the biggest anticlimax of my life?  
   
I made it my point to complain about this loudly to my dad as we left the office, hoping that the scoff from the receptionist was an angry scoff. Kate looked up from her phone and smiled at my dad, mint colored braces looking February-like with her red lipstick. She needs to put some green ones now that we’re in March, for soldiers and eggs. That sounded weird even in my head.  
   
When we entered the car with plans to go get pizza, I stretched like the mother in the Incredibles and turned on the radio because that silence was making me feel anxious. I kept hitting the buttons impatiently, the radio going from Justin Bieber, to Taylor Swift, to trap music, to more bullshit. Ugh, why is there nothing on? I’d settle with some Drake, even though I don’t like any except three of his songs. As if god was real and for once feeling generous and answering prayers, Halsey came on after some song by The Chainsmokers ended. As is normal when Halsey comes on, dad turned up the music, Kate took a deep breath, I sat back down where I’m supposed to be in the back seat and we all started singing along to her ‘Heaven in Hiding’, also known as the best song in her ‘hopeless fountain kingdom’ album, whoever says otherwise needs some serious mental check-up.  
   
“And when you start to feel the rush  
a crimson headache, aching blush  
and you surrender to the heat you’ll know  
I can put on a show, I can put on a show  
Don’t you see what you’re finding?  
This is heaven in hiding”  
   
All three of us screamed our lungs out while singing the chorus, breaking into giggles at the end of it from our feeble attempts at looking sexy while singing it. Somehow, Kate and I blasted Halsey enough in the house that now, whenever dad hears the first few seconds of a song of hers, without even needing to listen to her voice, he knows it’s Halsey and starts to ready himself for his big moment. He said, and I quote: “Halsey is…as you kids say- ‘Queen.’” The day he said that was awesome, I felt so proud.  
   
As the song ended and Khalid came on, dad put the radio’s volume so low that I had to strain my ears just to make out the beats. Kate’s enraged demon shriek (not really, but it feels like that to me) compelled dad into raising it a bit more, but not much, he doesn’t really like other artists from “our robot generation” like he so kindly puts it.  
   
When we finally reached the pizza place and ate, we left the little pizzeria and decided to go hang round the mall, because “might as well celebrate our free day” as my dad said, which is true because he’s basically never free for his work.  
   
Kate insisted we go to Sephora, where she spent around two hours and she spent her monthly check, we walked around some more, at one point, getting frappes from a tiny kiosk in the middle of the mall.  
   
“So yeah, after that, she got sent to the principal’s office and didn’t come back to class, so I hope she got a well-earned punishment, that stupid bitch.” Right now, dad and I are dutifully listening to Kate rant on about a girl in her class who bullied another girl- who came out as lesbian- so much that the other girl started crying in the middle of class. Honestly, if I was the teacher, I’d have stopped it before it escalated into something so serious that the other girl started crying. Sexuality is not something to feel ashamed of, not to be ridiculed of. If you don’t accept it, or understand it, you do like my dad, and shut up about it because it’s nothing of his business, he doesn’t go around ridiculing other people (at least in front of them) for their sexuality.  
   
That’s one flaw that my dad has that I’ll probably never accept, he doesn’t understand gender identity or sexuality. Which is stupid, because 1) what’s there to understand, and 2) homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, and anything-else-related-to-this phobia is stupid, bigoted and unreasonable. Dad’s inability to understand this is the reason I will never come out to him, unless I absolutely need to, which I doubt I will. Dad doesn’t need to know about my bisexuality unless I fall for some guy, which I don’t have to worry about right now because I’m with Jamie.  
   
We entered a few clothing stores and I ended up buying some cool band t-shirts and three ripped jeans. After this, I won’t have money for the next three months, but at least I have new clothes to take with me for Spring Break in New York with mom.  
   
Around dusk, when the mall was closing, we finally left the mall to go home. It was a fairly short ride, and it only took us around fifteen minutes to arrive home, the sun fully gone by now.  
   
Once I was in my room, I wrote in Matt, Jamie and I’s group chat.  
   
9:30pm  
Me: heyy  
   
9:30pm  
Me: so the doc said that there’s nothing physically wrong w me  
   
9:21pm  
Me: he said that it’s probably that I fainted from lack of sleep or smthing, lmao  
   
9:31pm  
Me: idek, but at least that’s out of the way  
   
9:35pm  
Jamie: Thank god, omg, I was so worried  
   
9:36pm  
Matt: srsly, I thought u were gonna die or smthng  
   
9:36pm  
Matt: not rlly, but u kno  
   
9:38pm  
Me: yeah, so did my dad  
   
9:38pm  
Me: anyways, I’ll tell u guys more tomorrow, I still have to shower and pretend to go to sleep  
   
9:39pm  
Jamie: if u fainted from lack of sleep shouldn’t u be, idk, /sleeping/?  
   
9:39pm  
Matt: my thoughts exactly  
   
9:41pm  
Me: …  
   
9:41pm  
Me: yolo  
   
9:41pm  
Matt: did u just-  
   
9:41pm  
Jamie: UNACCEPTABLE  
   
9:42pm  
Jamie: NO   
   
9:42pm  
Jamie: STAHP   
   
9:42pm  
Jamie: HOW DARE U???????????  
   
9:42pm  
Jamie: U HEATHEN  
   
I started laughing loudly on my bed, their reactions whenever I did something like this, or bring up an old meme, is always worth it, they always sound so insulted. It’s hilarious.  
   
9:42pm  
Me: jk jk  
   
Not really.  
   
9:43pm  
Me: I’ll go to sleep after showering, dw  
   
9:43pm  
Me: love u, J (and obv Matt, love u too)  
   
9:43  
Me: gn, bye  
   
9:44pm  
Matt: Love u 2, hope u don’t faint again or something GN  
   
9:44pm  
Jamie: Love you too, gn  
   
After the conversation was over, I suddenly felt tired. Everything that happened since last night finally catching up on me, everything feels so wrong lately. Everything I say feels like a lie, even if I know for a fact that what I’m saying is true. I feel as though everything’s far away in a sense. Everything’s distanced. I don’t know how to explain it.  
   
I rubbed a hand over my face and ruffled my hair a bit, the black strands falling into my eyes. I need to get it trimmed before I leave for New York. My hair’s always been difficult, even though it’s straight and doesn’t have any type of curl, styling it has always been difficult work. A few months back, before starting high school, I decided that no, I’m not going to keep walking around in a wannabe mullet and shaved the sides and left the top long, hoping to look hotter, even though J always says that it just made me look cuter, at least it’s not a downgrade from where I was.  
   
I’m so tired.  
   
   
The next day, J, Matt and I talked about everything that went down, and they finally stopped pestering me about it. I fainted, everyone’s fainted at least once in their lives, I don’t see the big deal. Anyways, they made me recount the whole thing, which I obviously didn’t, it’s not important what brought me to the point of making me break down like that, nor that broke down, nor that I made myself throw up, and basically the whole story I told them was a small lie.  
   
It’s necessary, though, they don’t need to feel like they need to be worried about me, I’m fine now, it’s just been too stressful, and I broke under the pressure, nothing’s wrong with me. I’m fine, tired, but fine.  
   
   
It’s Saturday and Jamie and I decided that we’d go on a date before Spring Break. After sitting around in in her house for two hours because we’re lazy, we decided to go eat and after, we’d go to the movies, which she’d pay for because I paid last time and I don’t have money. She offered, so it’s not like I’m forcing her or anything.  
   
We ate at a small café where Jamie ordered a small vegan sandwich and I ordered a chocolate crepe.   
   
“This salad’s so good.” I smiled at Jamie as she stuffed her mouth full of lettuce and other colorful stuff. Seriously, why do vegan foods always look so colorful?   
   
“The crepe’s great too, okay, it’s just skinny.” We both looked down at my plate, laughing. The crepe was skinny; her salad is in a big plate filled to the brim, and my crepe’s basically the opposite of that. I can’t complain though, even though it’s small, it tasted amazing.  
   
We talked a little more for a while, until the movie was about to start, and we left, walking a few blocks to reach the movie theater.   
   
We were walking in silence, our hands entwined; a small, content smile in my mouth.  
   
“Nix?”  
   
“Hm?” I looked down at Jamie, stopping and looking at her. She smiled at me and held my other hand.  
   
“Love you” She leaned closer to me and kissed me. A small peck, and another one. Suddenly, she let go of my hands and put hers around my neck, me holding her waist and kissing her back. The kiss was soft and cute, that’s the only way to describe it. It lasted a few seconds longer and we separated, smiling at each other, a rare sparkle in her eye, and we kept walking. Finally, we arrived, and, after Jamie bought the tickets and I bought the snacks with the little money my dad decided I could survive the month with.   
   
I love spending time with Jamie, she’s so nice all the time and she always tried to understand. Sure, she sometimes doesn’t know when to stop asking why or how, but most of the time, she’s just doing it out of concern. Jamie’s the best, she’s always so modest just- ugh. She’s just perfect in my eyes. She’s the only reason I’m happy right now. I love her so much.  
   
   
   
We saw the movie, I cried, Jamie cried, why did we choose that movie again? It was one of those happy-sad movies that you cry in, but they have a happy ending that either doesn’t make sense, or it does. It was plain sad most of the time, to be honest.  
   
“That was so cute! Did you see how they looked at each other in the end? It looked so hopeful, like, ‘We can survive this!’ type of look, I loved it.” Jamie was basically at the ‘Heart eyed anime character’ level by now, she’s been gushing over their last look since we left the movies. Apparently, it gave hope. To me, it gave me sadness. Why do people like these movies?  
   
“Yeah, yeah, it was great. It’s too sad though, for them to be so hopeful even though we knew they weren’t going to make it.” I said this, not thinking it would create war.  
   
“What the hell, Nix? It’s supposed to be like that, the point is that after all that drama and all those hardships, they still had hope at the end.” Jamie was seething when she finished that sentence, glaring at me.  
   
“Yes, well, life’s not like that. One does not just wake up one day, after being raped, beat, tortured and who knows what else thinking ‘let me start to hope, after all my life’s been one big dump of bullshit’.” I glared right back at her, the movie was stupid, yes, it sends a message about how everything will get better, but, newsflash, most of the time it won’t. From experience, I knew it wont.  
   
“It can be, if you hope for things to get better and work for them, it’ll pay off.”  
   
“That doesn’t happen in real life, J. You can hope for things and you can be working towards that one particular goal your whole life and you’ll die, what did you accomplish? Nothing.” I crossed my arms while saying this, a memory that I do not want to remember right on the brink of flooding my mind, threatening me, warning me.  
   
“Okay, but it’s not always like that, Nix. Sometimes it does work, when did you get so pessimistic?” Jamie’s eyes softened. I saw it in the way the furrow in her eyebrows disappeared.  
   
‘Always’ this is the truthful answer, ever since I was small and that happened I’ve been like this. A bitter smile found its way to my face ‘Hadn’t you noticed?’. My hands still in front of me, giving what little comfort and warmth they could. Calming down enough, I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Stop it.  
   
“No idea, probably the teenage angst.” I smiled at her, hopeful that for once my eyes wouldn’t sell me off, and maybe she didn’t notice, maybe she decided to ignore it, but she smiled back, and we kept walking to her home, everything else seemingly forgotten.  
   
   
   
That night, at my house, while I was on my bed, I felt scared. I don’t know why, but something’s staring at me and it won’t stop. At least, it felt like that. It’s in the corner next to my TV and it’s staring at me. I can see the silhouette and it’s there, in the corner, staring…waiting… Making me feel exposed, naked, vulnerable...  
   
Tears are slipping out of my eyes hoping that my dad or sister would come into my bedroom to make this thing stop staring at me. I can feel its eyes raking up and down my body, it’s making me feel as if I were back on that night when everything happened. …what if its him? No, it can’t be, he’s in jail, he’s not even in this state.   
   
I whimper, through the small opening in my lid, I can see it moving in the shadows, ready to pounce at any moment. Softly, I could hear it start whispering to me, it’s voice silky and smooth, unintelligible, but there. It’s there, it’s going to do something. I can hear it whispering, planning…but I can’t hear it, I can’t understand it.  
   
I open my eyes, a small scream escaping me, it was in front of me, it’s eyes a deep brown looking down at me from it’s height. I can’t scream, it’s going to kill me, and I can’t scream, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.  
   
It slowly inched back into the shadows, my door opening slowly to reveal my father.  
   
“Nixon? Why did you scream?” He looked at me from the door before turning on the light and inching closer. I quickly looked over at the corner, hoping to see it there so my dad could…so something, but there’s nothing there, there’s absolutely nothing there. It was there a second ago. It almost looked like…him.  
   
“I-I” I winced as my voice cracked, the pounding of my heart not slowing down even as I kept staring at the corner, there’s nothing there, but I can still feel its eyes looking at me.  
   
“Nixon?” I looked at my dad quickly, my eyes going back to the corner quickly and back to my dad, it’s too much. An endless string of ‘What?’ crawling through my mind, faster and faster with each second past.  
   
“I, um, I thought I saw him there, in the corner…there’s nothing there right? There’s nothing there? Dad?” Why isn’t he answering me? I looked over at dad, his eyes full of concern, looking at me questioningly.  
   
“Him? Nixon…are you talking about him? He’s not here, he’s in jail, he’s been in jail for six years and he’s never coming out, your mother an I made sure of that."  
   
No, dad doesn’t understand. He was just here, he was watching me from the corner. He’s here, he’s in the house- he’s in the house.  
   
“D-dad, no, he’s here, I saw him, he was right there in the corner looking at me.” I pointed at it, as if the mere action would make him understand. He’s here.  
   
Dad grabbed my outstretched arm by the wrist and hugged it to his own chest. I could feel the heavy thumps of his heart.  
   
“Nixon…he’s in jail, there’s nobody here…nobody has entered or closed, the windows are completely closed.” His voice was closer to a whisper than it was to his normal tone.  
   
“But…he was here, I could see him- he was staring at me.” As I said this, I realized how stupid I’m being. He’s in jail and he has been for years but, he was staring at me just earlier…in the corner…  
   
My gaze traveled over too the corner again, inspecting. There’s nothing there, but I was sure a few minutes ago that he was here, staring at me.  
   
I looked back at my dad, questioningly. I’m so confused. The feeling of being watched still clings to my body, making me uncomfortable. There’s nobody here though.   
   
…What was it I saw then? Maybe a night terror? But…I was awake. I’m so confused. What’s happening? Am I going crazy?  
   
I’m not crazy. I saw him there, he was here, he was looking at me life before, he was here. I looked at my dad, sobs racking my body from where I curled up into a fetal position, my head on my knees. A sudden warmth surrounds me, my father’s arms enveloping me and pressing me to his chest.  
   
“Nix, it was probably a nightmare, he’s in jail, he’s not here, shh…shh, calm down, he’s not here.” His large hands rubbing my back makes me feel better, though my constant glancing at the corner is not ceasing, I saw him. God, what the hell is happening to me? I haven’t had a dream about this in years.  
   
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened, I probably dreamed all of it, I-I’m sorry.” Dad laid down on the bed next to me; I fall back next to him and cuddle into his chest, I can’t stop crying, this is so pathetic and embarrassing.  
   
“Nix, it’s okay. It’s not your fault what that bastard did to you, it was sick, and it’s absolutely not your fault.” Dad’s voice seems choked, as though he was holding back his tears. I’m so stupid, why did I have to start bringing this up years later? I should be over this by now, its been years since it happened.  
   
I still remember when it happened, detail by detail. My mind forcing me to recall even as I vehemently tried to push the memory back. My eyesight suddenly blanked, flashes of images appearing suddenly, a memory coming to the front of my mind and drowning all of my other senses, making me only able to focus on it, as if it were a movie playing inside my mind.  
   
Young Nixon, seven years old is walking out of school, happily running with his sister into his Uncle Hector’s car. Uncle Hector’s the coolest uncle ever, he babysits us from Monday to Friday on the afternoons while mom and dad were working. He always takes us to the movies and to get ice cream (without mom’s permission obviously [she’s vegan and always tries to get us to eat less animal food]). Kate and I get in the car, the music – Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day – sounding loudly, just like Uncle Hector always likes it.  
   
Uncle Hector smiles as they get in, “We’re going home today, but I have a surprise for you, Nixon.” This made me exited, Uncle Hector always gets me awesome surprises, almost always including games we play.   
   
That day, when we reached the house, Kate stayed downstairs eating and chatting with her friends on the phone. Uncle Hector entered my bedroom, wailing until I got in to close the door behind himself and putting on the lock. I found this slightly weird, but didn’t question it, maybe he didn’t want Kate to come in and ruing the game.  
   
Uncle Hector patted the bed next to him where he sat down. I sat down next to him, looking at him expectantly while waiting for him to give me my surprise.  
   
“So, Uncle Hector…what’s the surprise?” I smiled at him, my canine tooth missing.   
   
“This surprise is going to be a little bit different, Nixon. You can’t tell anyone about it, especially your parents.” This got me a little confused, why wouldn’t I be able to tell my parents?  
   
“Is it bad?” I looked at Uncle Hector worried, I don’t want to be ungrateful…but I don’t want to be a bad child either.  
   
“No, it’s more like the ice cream, it’s okay, but your parents won’t agree.” Oh, I understand. At least it’ll probably be fun, Uncle Hector always makes games fun.  
   
“Ohhhhhh, okay. So, what is it?” I smiled up at Uncle Hector again, all my previous hesitation gone.   
   
“Before I tell you, I need you to promise me you won’t tell anybody, though, you’re a good boy, you can do that, right? Promise me.” His words sounded nice, but underneath laid a threat which I didn’t pick up on until years later.  
   
“I promise, I promise. Can you please tell me now what it is?” I rolled my eyes at Uncle Hector expectantly, his chuckle accompanied with a hand ruffling my hair.  
   
“I’m going to need you to do something for me, though, can you do that?” I looked up at Uncle Hector, nodding quickly at him, of course.  
   
“You need to take your clothes off, but don’t worry, you can leave you underwear on.” This struck me as weird, my innocent mind not finding anything wrong with it, but also nothing right either. Uncle Hector’s disarming smile had me agreeing though. “I’ll even do the same, so you don’t feel weird.”  
   
We took off our clothes in silence, doubt starting to resurface on my mind again as I turned around to look at Uncle Hector, now sitting on the bed again with nothing except his boxers on. A weird smile on his handsome face, his blue eyes traveling down my body, a predatory look in his eyes- which at the time, I didn’t notice.  
   
“Come here.” I slowly moved forward, his outstretched arms prompting me “Here, sit on my lap, yeah like that.” A weird noise escaped his mouth, and I was suddenly scared. A whimper escaping my mouth as I felt something poking my behind. The urge to cry overtook me and a few tears fell.  
   
“Uncle…I don’t like this, can we stop?” I tried to turn around to look at Uncle Hector in his eyes, but the death grip which his hands had on my tiny hips was unrelenting. My eyes widened as another noise escaped his mouth, this one more growl-like before he started moving his lips against my bottom, a rhythm quickly falling into place as he made me move with the grip he had on my hips- grinding me against his crotch in time with his thrusts.  
   
“You feel so good, baby, so good.” He dug his face in my neck, another groan escaping his body as he went faster, sloppy movements replacing the previously set rhythm. Sobs were now freely leaving my body, Uncle Hector’s hand moving down there and starting to fondle it.   
   
“Please stop…” If anything, it made him go faster, a weird tingling in my crotch making me cry even harder. Uncle Hector kept going, his thrusts getting erratic, until a sharp cry left his lips and he stopped moving, pushing my body downwards, pushed against his crotch until he finally let me go and I crumbled to the floor, a crying, slobbering mess.  
   
Uncle Hernan grabbed my arm harshly, careful enough to not leave bruises, but hard enough to be a threat.  
   
“Remember, Nixon, you promised you wouldn’t tell anybody. Are you going to be a good boy and keep your promise?” His friendly smile didn’t fit well with the glare in his eyes, making me whimper and nod quickly, I was going to be a good boy.  
   
“Good, this can be our secret little game.”  
   
I gasped like a drowning man, jerking away from the arms holding me. That was one of the first times my uncle did anything to me. I felt hands on my arms, tight – I wrenched them back. Leave me alone, don’t touch me, don’t touch me.  
   
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed and blindly threw a punch, feeling my fist land on something hard, my father’s groan bringing me back into reality.   
   
‘The corner’   
   
I quickly looked into the side, a face glaring back at me from the wall. His face staring back, Uncle Hector’s face. His blue eyes flashing for a second and his friendly smile dropping into a scowl before it disappeared and there was only the wall again. I gasped some more, not enough air reaching my lungs, a burning feeling spreading though my whole chest.  
   
I’m going to die, I’m going to die.  
   
“-xon! Nixon!” I looked to the side, my father’s face the only thing grounding me to reality. Everything else seemed to be spinning and flashing. He reached towards me, taking my stillness as an agreement and enveloping me in a hug. Putting my head in his chest, the only thing reaching my ears is the unsteady pounding of his hears, the steady rise and fall of his chest bringing back memories from when we used to do this constantly when I was young.  
   
“You’re in your room, Nixon- follow my breathing, Nix, yeah, that’s it- we’re alone in here. Your room is painted grey, the red curtains giving it that ‘grungy’ look you always said you wanted when we were remodeling. Your bedsheets are black, red and white. You’re dressed in a red oversized hoodie and black pajama pants with tiny cats all over them- you always wear these, why- anyways, there’s a mess on top of your nightstand, you have your headphones, your speaker, three cups-“Dad kept going for a while, talking and describing things inside my room. A tactic we used when I was young and used to have constant panic attacks. The talking helped keep me grounded and listening to his breathing helps me be able to normalize my breath. That hadn’t happened in so long, the hallucinating his face in the corner is new, but the flashbacks used to happen all the time when I was younger, this is the first one I’ve had in years, I honestly thought they were gone for good. Apparently, my PTSD has been there, lurking in the corner all this time waiting for that one trigger.  
   
About an hour later, my dad got up from the bed.  
   
“I’m going to make you an appointment from a psychologist- no, it’s not an option- tomorrow and you’ll go after Spring Break. Also, I’m going to go sleep right now and if anything, and I mean anything happens again, I want you to call me immediately. We’re talking about this tomorrow also.” With that, he turned off the lights after a nod from me and exited the bedroom and I dug myself under my bedsheets, the images of Uncle Hector still haunting my brain, the image of his face on the wall flashing in my mind whenever I so much as closed my eyes.  
   
‘What was that? Am I going crazy? What’s happening to me?’ Those questions circled around my mind as I broke down sobbing on my bed again, half my mind wanting to call my dad back in, but I don’t want to bother him again, he looked tired- ready to drop, tired. I can’t burden him with this again, after he spent close to two hours with me already, because my stupid self decided to fuck up and make me revisit those memories I’d spent so long suppressing.   
   
‘What’s wrong with you?’


	7. Spring Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> \- Slight happiness  
> \- Self harm  
> \- Blood  
> \- Gore  
> \- Psychotic episodes  
> \- Hallucinations  
> \- Delusions  
> \- Family  
> \- Coming out  
> \- Good mother???

   
Mom, Kate, and I got in mom’s car, my younger sibling status rendering me to the backseat even though I specifically remember shouting “shotgun!” faster. Kate and I argued for a while, mom laughing at our antics before telling Kate to sit on the front and me to “be a gentleman.” No thanks.  
   
I want to say that the car ride was awesome and that we talked about everything we’d missed recently, but it wasn’t. I fell asleep as soon as mom started the car. Last night’s inability to sleep will probably come bit me in the ass, in a completely non-sexy way. Alicia Key’s ‘If I Ain’t Got You’ lulled me to sleep, and Kate woke me up half an hour later when we reached a small café that mom swore was the best place for breakfast, or anything really.  
   
We entered the place, it was warm unlike outside, and had yellow fairy lights everywhere. Potted plants hung from the ceiling, giving the place an interesting smell, a mix of spices, sweets, and baked foods. It felt like heaven.  
   
We walked up to the cashier and ordered our foods from the extremely and unfairly handsome man behind the counter. His nametag said the name Antony, and mom seemed familiar with him, their subtle flirting not getting past me nor Kate, both of us smirking a little as mom blushed. I ship it. I ordered a hot chocolate, a blueberry muffin, and some toast, because who cares about matching foods.  
   
We sat down on a little booth near the back, and instantly Kate and I bombarded mom with questions.  
   
“So, how is he under that Italian accent and that beautiful body?” I snorted as Kate licked her spoon suggestively while saying this. Mom glared at both of us, a heavy blush set on her cheeks.  
   
“He’s…nice.” Mom tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking at the table bashfully as she said this. This is so cute, mom used to go on dates all the time, but when she finally hit the 45 age mark, she gave up. Personally, I have no idea why, because my mom inherited the Asian gift from her mother of not aging at all. She’s forty-five, but looks closer to thirty, my dad looks older than her and he’s only forty. White genes, man, they deteriorate faster.  
   
“C’mon, I need more information than that, nice can mean many things.” Kate rolled her eyes at mom and crossed her arms haughtily. She looked like a sassier copy of my mom, although that’s hard to accomplish because my mom is the queen of sass. No idea what happened to my sass genes, but they’re rotten – whenever I try to be sassy, I end up stuttering or choking on something.  
   
“Okay, okay…we went on a few dates already, he’s a real gentleman, and he’s into sports which is a downgrade, but not too into them which is an upgrade,”  
   
I rolled my eyes at mom, of course she makes a downgrade for sports, she’s always had a burning, passionate hate towards them. Whenever I look at mom, I see that girl at school that fails school because of P. E., which is true, mom had to retake P. E. classes on her senior year.  
   
“But what’s his personality like? Is he an asshole sometimes? Innocent? Cute? Flirty? Tell me, woman.” I leaned to the front on my chair and opened my eyes wide, maybe I can make my mom talk by giving her my crazy eyes (I basically just open my eyes real wide, and I look like a crazy person – which I’m not). That didn’t work, and mom just took a large bite from her sandwich. I switched tactics and pouted at her, doing my best to look sad and like a kicked puppy or something, this face isn’t as effective nowadays with J and Matt being immune.  
   
“Oh my god, boy, you’re worse than my secretary, calm,” mom laughed loudly and surely both Kate and I joined in, her laugh’s infectious.   
   
“He’s flirty, but also gets flushed really quickly so…” mom shrugged and blushed again, this felt more like talking with girls my age than as if I were talking with my mom, honestly woman.  
   
“Okay…seems cool, I guess.” Kate grumbled at mom’s hesitance to answer, and quietly, both Kate and I acquiesced that she’ll probably keep evading the answer like the good lawyer she is.  
   
We talked a little bit more about how things are going, when finally, the question that always comes got asked.  
   
“Nix, so how’s it going with Jamie?” We’d finished eating a while ago, but we had no rush to go anywhere, so we stayed sited, catching up on things.  
   
“We’re fine”  
   
I looked up at my mother’s deadpan expression and rolled my eyes – if she weren’t my mother I’d call her a hypocrite but I lover her too much to insult her.  
   
“Honestly, we’re fine! We’ve gone on a few dates lately, and we hand out together all the time, and stuff.”  
   
“Stuff?” I looked up alarmed at Kate’s tone, nope, nope, not talking about this. Jamie and I have never done anything sexual except for making out, but Kate decides to never believe me, since – obviously – she knows more about my relationship than I do.  
   
“Not that kind of stuff, no.” I huffed and crossed my arms, why does everyone insist on sex? I don’t want to, period.  
   
‘Jamie will probably get bored with you sooner or later, now she knows you’re a whore, so you don’t have an excuse.’  
   
My head whipped to the side before I could control myself, the voice seemed so real, as if someone beside me was saying it; the only thing I saw was the image of Cheshire on the wall, before I blinked, and she disappeared. Please, not now.  
   
“Kate, your brother’s too young for that anyways.” Pfft, yeah okay, mom is crazy; I looked at her with my eyebrows raised, and she had her whole face red from trying to contain her laughter. At Kate’s snort though, I found my escape goat.  
   
“Please, Kate, we all know the one who’s been doing “stuff” is not me.” Kate glared at me, but I didn’t care. That’s what she gets for insisting about talking about my sex life as if it was hers – one should expect retaliation when playing a dangerous game.  
   
Mom perked up at that, smirked slyly and started talking to my sister about the “safety rules” of consensual and safe sex. Okay, embarrassing conversation to be having in a crowded café, the young couple next to us was laughing quietly, trying to hide the fact that they were listening to our conversation but failing miserably.   
   
“That’s why you should always encourage men to buy condoms their size, if it’s too small it can break, and if it’s too big it might slip off.” Wow, okay, shouldn’t have given her opportunity to talk about this. Why am I the one stuck with the shameless mother? Both mine and Kate’s faces were red when we left the café, Kate glaring at me hotly – honestly, as if I wanted to be there.  
   
   
The rest of the day we spent by driving around and listening to music on the radio. We went to a park and walked around for a while until the sky was darkening and the crows was starting to dwindle.  
   
A small, content sigh left me, and I smiled up at the dark sky, there were no stars, that’s not something that can be appreciated in New York; my mother’s company though, it was the best gift I could ask for. I‘d missed her so much, it felt exhilarating to finally be here, all three of us talking without any troubles.  
   
The tranquility of the afternoon didn’t last long though, the whispers were making it hard for me to concentrate, their voices doubling the sound of my mother’s and sister’s voice. I didn’t realize that what I was hearing wasn’t what they were saying when I looked shocked at their expressions and they looked as normal as ever.  
   
“So, then I said: “You can’t just believe you’re going anywhere in life, Nixon, you’re just a failure.”” I looked up shocked, my mother’s face next to Kate, me taller than both by a few inches. Did she really just say that, and look so chill about it? A sinking feeling made my stomach feel as though it were trying to leave my body and travel through a hole to China.  
   
My mother’s voice came out sounding more distorted as she kept talking, her insults becoming more and more harsh, to the point where I deduced that it couldn’t be her talking. Mom would never say those things about me. Still, there were tears prickling at my eyes unremittingly. When we got in the car, mom’s voice had turned back to normal, her and Kate talking about one of the latest cases om had that ended up with her guy in jail, but with less time.  
   
My heart was thumping loudly inside my chest, unrelenting in its pace and dedicated to make me have a panic attack on the back seat of the car. That had never happened before, it was always disembodied voices that tormented me, or Cheshire’s red glowing silhouette. Never had this made me listen to my mother, or anyone else insult me…it felt strange, and invasive.  
   
My breaths came quicker. I have to tell someone, this is getting out of control, I need to tell someone.  
   
‘They’ll lock you up.’  
   
‘they’ll throw you away like the waste of space you are.’  
   
‘They’ll be so disappointed.’  
   
‘They’ll hate you.’  
   
‘Everyone will abandon you, nobody will love you, sweetie.’   
   
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cool window of the car. The voices drowned my mother’s voice out, or maybe she’s just quiet now, but the pounding in my head is making everything swim, and I needed to close my eyes.  
   
‘You should just kill yourself, you don’t deserve to be alive.’  
   
‘You’re so stupid.’  
   
‘Nobody loves you.’  
   
Stop. I opened my eyes slightly when I felt the car stop, closing them again when I realized that we’d just stopped because of traffic, I always forgot the impracticality of owning a car in New York.  
   
When we finally reached the building, mom parked the car, and we walked into the lobby. The whole experience felt like a Hollywood movie, the bright yellow lights of the lobby make it look even more expensive, and the crystal everything. We took the elevator to mom’s apartment, and when we entered, the whole thing was like stepping in a whole new dimension. It isn’t small, at all, but it doesn’t look as extravagant and expensive as the lobby. The walls wee painted a light grey color, with the kitchen having a wall painted blue with little flicks of different colors on top of it.   
   
Next to the kitchen, there’s an open space with a red couch and a flat screen TV that looks more expensive than my whole house back home. There’s a door to the left, with a hallway with three doors, which I assume are the bedrooms. To the left of the entrance, there’s a space with bookcases filled to the brim with music records, and right next to that there’s a white door, leading to a room with a desk inside, which I assumed was my mother’s office.  
   
All in all, it’s a very cozy place, not too filled, but also not so empty it feels barren. It’s a representation of exactly what my mom’s personality is.  
   
I only look around enough to familiarize myself before I walk over to the guest rooms, Kate is taking the one next to mom’s, and I’m taking the one on the other side of the hall. I’m thankful with this arrangement, this way I get my own bathroom, and Kate and mom have to share. There’s another bathroom in between the kitchen and the living room, but that’s too far to travel in the darkness.  
   
I enter my room after hugging my mom tightly and wishing her goodnight and closed the door behind me. I was hoping that the voices would stay back in Florida with all of the school stress, but no, they’re here with me, because I’m fucking crazy.  
   
I turn the lock on my bedroom and walk over to the bed shivering, it’s colder than I thought, I might have to ask my mom if she has any gloves I can borrow because one more day outside with my hands exposed and my fingers might just fall off. Maybe I’ll die of hypothermia and get it over with, I mused. Dying sounded way better than being the rest of my life with the voices screaming in my head. I can’t tell anyone though, they’ll kill me, they’ll kill me.  
   
   
‘You should just kill yourself and then nothing can hurt you’  
   
Undressing, I started filling up the bathtub. I went over to my bag and dug inside, looking for the two razors I owned. One for emergencies, and one for shaving (I’m a male that appreciates not having extremely hairy legs, it feels nice). I took some pajamas and walked inside the bathroom again, closing the water tap and putting a leg inside, it’s so warm. I sit on the bathtub and pull my knees up to my chest, the bubbles dispersing slightly from where my knees broke through the surface of the water.  
   
I scrubbed myself clean with the luffa (mom gave Kate and I one, calling them God’s gift to the world while at it). After I was done, I leaned back on and closed my eyes, relaxing into the side of the bathtub, the warm water surrounding my cold body.  
   
‘Sweetie…why do you do this to everyone?’  
   
‘You should just spare everyone the annoyance and just kill yourself.’  
   
‘What are you waiting for?’  
   
‘Do it’  
   
“Shut UP!” I dragged my hands down my face before pressing them against my ears. I pressed even harder, desperate to silence Cheshire’s voice. I was sobbing again, Cheshire’s voice seemed enhanced by millions of whispers in the corners of my mind, repeating her every word in an eerie unison, like a chorus intent on echoing her every word.  
   
Maybe if I drown them…maybe they’ll shut up, maybe they’ll leave me alone for once. Without a second thought, I submerged my whole body – my eyes closed and my hands still over my ears. They weren’t shutting up, why isn’t it working?!  
   
‘You can’t get rid of me.’  
   
A loud cackle followed the unfamiliar voice. Frantically, I reached over to the razor and sliced it through my wrist. Blood immediately started flowing out of the cut, the echoes in my head were still going strong, the cut not having silenced them in the slightest.  
   
Again, and again I sliced my wrist with the razor, the water now a pink color from the blood. My black hair in front of my eyes obscuring my vision along with my tears, the pain not working against the voices this time. Their taunting becoming more disarrayed, wreaking havoc inside my mind, an urge to scream unrelenting, the sound tight in my belly, but tapped.  
   
I submerged again, the pink tinted water splashing against the tile floor at my violent movements.   
   
“Just stop, please – shut up!” I was babbling, not sure if I speaking out loud or just begging inside my mind, but I gripped my hair tight and pulled it hard, they won’t stop.  
   
‘YOU ARE SO STUPID’  
   
‘YOU’LL HAVE NO FRIENDS, YOU’RE CRAZY’  
   
‘KILL YOURSELF, NIXON, GO AHEAD’  
   
‘NOBODY WILL MISS YOU’  
   
‘YOU WILL BE FORGOTTEN IMMEDIATEDLY’  
   
‘EVERYONE HATES YOU’  
   
‘THEY’RE WITH YOU BECAUSE THEY PITY YOU’  
   
‘YOU’RE A FAILURE OF A SON’  
   
‘KILL YOURSLEF’  
   
‘DON’T COME UP, NIXON’  
   
‘STAY UNDER’  
   
They’re watching me now, all of the disembodied voices suddenly have faces. Their faces on the walls, moving mouths but omnipotent voices coming from all directions. Disorienting. Everything’s spinning and twisting, Cheshire’s grin appearing in front of me, sharp teeth tinted red with blood.  
   
‘They’ll KILL YOU’  
   
‘GRAB MY HAND, SWEETIE’  
   
I leaped out of the bathtub as Cheshire’s silhouette body suddenly appeared in the bathtub. Everything as undetailed as everything except for the hand that popped up, black as the night with long talons dripping with blood.  
   
I hurriedly pulled the plug thing and watched as the bathtub drained and Cheshire seemed to drain right with it. Cheshire’s bloodcurdling scream rooting me to my spot next to the bathtub. I stood there shocked, the quit making me feel as if I had suddenly gone deaf. I looked down at my arm and gagged, falling on my knees in front of the toilet and throwing up; the pungent stench of blood entered my nose and I gagged again, bile rushing up my throat and splashing against the toilet water.  
   
Cold seems to surround my wet body and seep into my bones, shivers racking my whole body. I flush the toilet and rise up to grab my towel. I dry myself off and pick up my toothbrush with my unharmed arm. I wash my mouth and after rinsing the aftertaste off with mouthwash, I put my right arm under the water spray, wincing as the cold water hit the open wounds.   
   
After they stop bleeding, I grab a long sleeved black sweater and put it on after my underwear. I put on my sleeping pants and an old hoodie to sleep, even though the heater is turned on, it still feels cold.  
   
As I leave the bathroom and climb under the thick duvet, a shrill scream pierces through the quiet in my mind.  
   
‘YOU THINK YOU CAN GET RID OF ME – OF US?!’  
   
‘YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!’  
   
‘YOU’RE JUST A DISAPPOINTMENT.’  
   
I put my head under the pillow and pull the duvet over that too, I feel as if they screamed any louder, my ears will start bleeding. Only that they won’t, because everything’s inside my head.  
   
It became a long, restless night. I couldn’t sleep at all, when they finally quieted enough, the sun was beginning to poke through the curtains and my right uncut arm now has scratches from my nails raking through them. My hands have the imprints of my nails from tucking them as hard as I did, and somewhere throughout the night, my eyes dried up and no more tears came forth.  
   
I laid on my bed exhausted, every time I blinked, it felt as though my eyelids were scraping against my eyes. Hopelessness clung to my body, staring blankly at the ceiling hoping that I would just collapse on top of me so I can rest. My perception of time failed me that morning, lost in the cracks adorning the smooth ceiling, covered by paint. At some point, insects started crawling out of a crack in the paint, my body and mind too exhausted to feel anything except the resignation. In a few seconds – maybe, I’m not sure – they disappeared, any sign of them having been there inexistent.   
   
I closed my eyes and just laid there, not awake nor asleep, just there, existing.  
   
My mind was starting to drift off when I heard the first outside noise in hours, a knock on my door signaling that either my mom or Kate were there. The knock came again, but my body felt too heavy, too trapped in a limbo to move. It felt as though I was in purgatory, waiting for either heaven or hell to take me.  
   
The door shook a few times and opened, my mind registering in what felt like a faraway place that my mom probably had a key for the locks.  
   
“Nixon, sweetie?” I involuntarily flinched, the word burning through the numbness in my mind and leaving all my nerves feeling raw and exposed. No, no, no, no, please, no. My mind freaked out, but my body stayed in its place, the only indication that I heard her was the flinch I gave.  
   
My body felt unresponsive, as if my body and my brain were two different beings that were at war with each other. My brain urging my body to move, but my body refusing, stubborn in its pursue at just laying there until the inevitable demise came, my brain slowly but steadily caving into my body’s wishes.  
   
“Nix? Are you awake?” Her voice sounded different, an emotion running through it, but my numb mind couldn’t register it. She came over and sat on the edge of my bed, leaving over me and breaking my stare with the crack on the ceiling.  
   
“Hm?” It was the only thing I could will my body to say. My eyes stayed put on the space in the ceiling, not straying.  
   
“Nixon?!” I managed to open my mouth, intent on saying something. My gaze drifted over to my mom and my eyes locked into hers. Everything started coming back, and I closed my eyes for a second, trying to shake off the disorientation of whatever just happened. I tried lifting my right arm, wincing at the pain it brought me; a frantic look down assured me that yes, it is covered up by my sleeve. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, looking around my room.  
   
“What?” I looked back at mom, who still had furrowed eyebrows and a concerned look on her face.  
   
‘Great going, you idiot.’   
   
The voice was like a wound into my heart, wouldn’t I ever get a break?  
   
“Are you okay? Did you sleep at all last night? You have bags under your eyes, the dark circles are basically black, Nixon, you looked dead – what was that?!” Mom grabbed my right arm tightly and I had to fight every cell in my body not to scream and jolt away from the pain, only a slight flinch escaping me. Did I sleep at all? I had to physically stop myself from laughing out loud.  
   
“I always have dark circles, mom.” I have, I’ve had them since I discovered fanfictions and ships.  
   
“Not – not like this, Nix, you look half dead.” She reached over and moved my hair from my face, looking at me closely.  
   
“I had nightmares about him last night, they’ve been happening frequently lately, I couldn’t sleep.” A big fat lie, but better than telling her the truth and her throwing me away and getting me locked up.  
   
“They’re happening more frequently? I thought they’d stopped.” She looked at me confused and I had to resist the temptation to roll my eyes at her. I’m always more irritable when I have little sleep, today I’ll be murderous, I can’t take it out on mom though, it’s my own fault for not trying to get rid of the voices faster.  
   
“Yeah well, recently I had a few flashbacks and now I’m having nightmares, it’s part of the traumatic experience’s aftermath, I’m fine.” She still looked worried, and this time I did roll my eyes. Why can’t anyone take an answer for what it is and always try to dig deeper? If I say I’m fine then it mans just that, I’m fine.  
   
I got up from my bed and walked over to my suitcase, I need to empty them, but I don’t want to. I take out some black jeans and a white knitted sweater, topping it off with a denim jacket like a true Tumblr user.  
   
I open the door of the bathroom and cringe, there’s dried blood on the floor, and the tub still has pink tinged water at the bottom. Okay, thank god mom can’t see it from where she’s sitting.  
   
“I – I’m going to shower mom…I’ll come out in a little while.” I smiled at her, and she smiled back too, though her smile looked more mischievous than anything else.  
   
“Okay, Nix…hurry up though, we’re going out today to have breakfast, then we’re going to the mall, and then…” Mom’s smile got bigger, walking over to me slowly. I closed the bathroom door behind me, hoping to have done it nonchalantly enough that she won’t notice my nervousness.  
   
She stood in front of me and handed me something, a paper…I grabbed it and started reading. At the very top it said The Neighbourhood Live! my mouth gaped, and I looked at my mom, is this real? Did she really?  
   
I looked at her and we both squealed like morons before I hugged her. Oh my god, I was such an asshole earlier, and she did this for me, oh my god, I didn’t think she’d actually buy the tickets.  
   
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” We hugged a little while more, then mom left, and I stood there in front of my door to the bathroom when I heard squealing from the hall and chuckled to myself. I turned around and opened the door again  
   
The sight that welcomed me was anything but. How did I not notice this last night when I left the bathroom? I’m so fucking stupid. I close the door behind me quickly and put my clothes on top of the sink and move to where the paper towels are, grabbing a bunch and wetting it. I kneeled where the blood is on floor and started scrubbing.  
   
It took about fifteen minutes, but there were finally no more stains on the floor. I turned on the tap to fill the tub with warm water and got in after undressing. I sat down on the tub, swishing my arms idly in the water, the bubbles covering everything up to my chest now.  
   
Last night I tried to drown the voices – I tried to drown myself. I wasn’t doing it with the intention of dying per se, but Cheshire and the voices led me to that…this is dangerous. I can’t tell them, they’ll lock me up somewhere, but I’m fine, I’m not crazy.  
   
I scrub myself clean and quickly get out, the cuts in my arm are stinging from the soap and looking at them in making me nauseated. I quickly dry myself off and put on my clothes. I walk back out again and put on my black combat boots, my second true loves.  
   
I walked out of my bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen. I looked at mom and Kate, both bundled up in clothes like me, while sitting down and fangirling about something I’m not getting into.  
   
“But mom, Jason is totally better than Percy.” I looked up from putting on my black gloves, wordlessly putting on my black beanie on top and glaring at Kate, the fuck she thinks she is?  
   
“The fuck did you just say?” I crossed my arms at Kate, glaring with all my might. What the hell kind of messed up BS is she on that she thinks that Jason is better than Percy in any way. Jason and Percy are both awesome, cute, cinnamon rolls that deserve love, but in no way can Jason be compared to Jason in a boyfriend level. Did Jason jump into Tartarus for Piper? I didn’t think so.  
   
Kate rolled her eyes, and mom backed up a little from the counter, giving us some space like the strong, intelligent, independent women I know she is – or something along those lines, back on track now.  
   
“I’m just saying, Jason was way more likeable than Percy, he’s too stuck up at the end of the second series.” Kate, what you doin’? I could see where she’s going with this, but that’s not how this goes at all.  
   
“Kate, Percy struggled with abuse when he was 12, or did you forget about Gabe? And after all of that, he’s chosen for a bunch of prophesies that he needs to complete, or the world explodes or something, and then he’s chucked into Tartarus and survives.” Kate opened her mouth to argue back, but mom put her own palm over Kate’s mouth and nodded at me. I’ll continue, I can go all day.  
   
“Then he still has to fight, after all of that, he’s probably all kinds of fucked up after the war with Gaia, now add all of that to all other personal struggles he went through,” by now, I was calm and just sitting on the counter of the kitchen, we’re not debating anymore, I just told concrete truth, “and Jason, yeah sure, he had struggles with his family and that annoyance Hera always butting in and messing everything up, but still helping? Did she help? I don’t know. Anyways, both of them are important to the story, an have stuff they have to deal with, but Percy is not up for comparison with anyone, he’s one of a kind, he’s...ugh, he’s Percy Jackson, and that’s the best, ok? Deal with it.” I crossed my arms and leaned back a little until my back rested against the white cabinets.   
   
“Oh my god, sheesh, okay, we get it, you’re in love with Percy Jackson, no need to have my head over finding Jason hotter.” Mom and Kate both bursted out laughing, probably because of the heat that rushed up into my cheeks.  
   
“No, no, Kate, remember, men always feel insulted whenever you even hint at their sexuality, careful with what you say.” Mom’s whole body shook with laughs as she leaned heavily on the counter. Kate was right there with her, her face pushed against her arms, rested on top of the counter. What the actual hell? That’s so untrue, I never get offended. Except for now, I’m offended now.  
   
Before I could actually process what was coming out of my mouth, I said in a clipped tone: “I’m bi”  
   
It was like a domino effect, I dropped the bomb and both of the stopped laughing immediately. Both of them staring at me as if I were an alien that came through the window and sat on their counter.  
   
“W-what?” Mom, seriously? She looked shell-shocked, standing there staring at me quietly. My slightly impassive face turned bitter, I could feel myself glaring at mom, who still hadn’t shown any outwards acknowledgement except freezing up.  
   
“Yay! Omg, I had no idea, that’s so cool! Holy shit, does this mean you do have a crush on Percy?! I knew guys got crushes on book characters too. Ha! Fuck Carter.” I looked alarmed at Kate who seemed to get over her initial shock quickly and started clapping her hands like a seal and jumping on her seat while rambling.  
   
I grinned at her a little before sobering up and looking back at mom, who seemed to be coming out of her shock. I blinked, and everything seemed to darken, only silhouettes visible around me.  
   
‘She’s disgusted by you.’  
   
‘You’re disgusting.’  
   
‘DISGUSTING.’  
   
‘Kill yourself already, why do you insist on making everyone around you miserable?’  
   
They’re right, I make everyone miserable. Mom was happy before I unexpectedly threw this bomb on her. Something clicked into my mind and it felt as if my empty stomach was getting ready to purge everything out.  
   
‘You’re just a whore, sweetie.’  
   
‘You’re not good for anything.’  
   
‘She probably thinks you wanted it.’  
   
What if – what if she thinks that everything Uncle Hector did to me made me this way and feels disgusted? I don’t think that’s it, but what if it is? She probably hates me now.  
   
I blinked again when I felt arms circling around me, everything turned back to normal and when I looked down, mom had her arms around my waist and holding me tight. I wrapped my arms around her too, tucking her head under my chin and sighing. She’s hugging me, can’t be that disgusted. Hopefully. I blinked hard a few times, trying to hold back the few tears that had accumulated in my eyes – I managed to hold them back for once.  
   
“Thank you for trusting me enough to say it, Nix, I know it’s not easy, I’m very thankful.” She squeezed me more tightly and I wheezed a little but laughed airily. She doesn’t hate me, she doesn’t hate me. I slumped against her and exhaled deeply.   
   
“Thanks, mom.”   
   
   
   
The three of us went to have breakfast, and after we went to the movies. Yes, we watched three movies, they were great. By the third one though, my head hurt too much from the “volume of the speakers” (petty voices screaming at me) and we decided to leave to the have lunch. At the end of the day, we all showered and just laid around in the living room while talking. Also, mom and Kate drinking wine and me getting a tiny sip from mom’s because she says its better to learn to drink at home and responsibly than to learn outside with irresponsible friends and end up almost dead. I tried to argue because Kate is only eighteen, not legal age at all for drinking, but mom argued back that Kate’s allowed because in South Korea – where she lived at for half a year – she could drink at 19, and Kate will be that age in a few months.   
   
Still doesn’t make sense because even if Kate’s almost there, doesn’t mean she can drink at nine-teen here. I didn’t say anymore though, mom is supposed to be the “responsible” adult, not me, I’m a child in the eyes of the law.  
   
“Is Hercules still your favorite animated Disney movie?” Mom turned towards me with her eyebrows raised from where she’s laying down hogging the couch.  
   
“Of course, Hercules is the best.” I said smiling and leaned back into the little coffee table. Kate giggled from beside me and covered her mouth.  
   
“Nix will go the distance with Hercules,” then proceeded to burst out laughing and spill the glass of water she was clutching on her hand.  
   
“I do not want to know if that was an innuendo or just a plain out punning from you.” Mom shook her head disappointedly at Kate, she and I both bursting out laughing at mom’s disgusted face.  
   
“Anyways, Nix, I’m assuming your dad doesn’t know about you being bi?” Mom sat up and left some space on the couch for a slightly swaying Kate.  
   
“Nope, so, like, shush.”  
   
“Thought so, he’s not so understanding about it, asshole.” By then, I was pretty sure that she’s drunk, or at the very least tipsy, because mom never insults dad in front of us unless it’s extremely necessary.  
   
“…Okay…”  
   
   
That night I managed to fall asleep, Cheshire standing in the corner of the room, looking at me. He presence is unbearable, but I was so tired that I fell asleep without much fuss. The voices left me alone, for the first time in days, and the next day I felt invigorated.  
   
On the afternoon, we got dressed and left for the concert venue. Thankfully, it’s indoors, so we don’t have to freeze our asses off. The concert wasn’t starting for the next two hours, but the three of us were already there (along with a bunch of other people). My body is shaking with excitement by the time we enter the place and find our seats (a.k.a spot; nobody stays seated during concerts). We sat there for a while, singing along to the pre-concert music Today’s Top Hits, and the boy next to me, Will (he told me his name while flirting with me) got so exited while singing to Khalid that I got a hand to the face.  
   
Honestly, the concert hasn’t even started yet and I’m already getting hit in the face with limbs. When the lights dimmed, my heart thrummed, and I screamed along with the other thousands of people filling up the venue.  
   
The band started singing ‘Scary Love’ and I almost died. Not because of anything bad, just that when Jesse Rutherford started singing, my heart stopped, and Will started screaming in my side loudly along with my family, and everything felt so perfect.   
   
I sang along loudly to every song, along the last songs, I started coughing and losing my voice because of my screaming, but it was so worth it. I forgot the existence of mom and Kate for the good part of a whole hour, my mind hyper focused on the stage. It was so amazing, my heart feeling as if it were going to explode any minute because of the screams of all the fans around me and the loud sound of the bass.  
   
When it was – sadly – over, and the three of us were leaving, I realized a crucial piece of information I wasn’t aware of before.  
   
“Nix, are you crying?!” I look at Kate and see her holding a hand over her mouth trying to hide her smile.  
   
“Um…no.” I wiped my eyes quickly, feeling the blush rush to my cheeks at mom and Kate’s smiles, at least they don’t look condescending.  
   
“Mhm, sure.”  
   
   
   
After four and a half hours of traffic trying to get out of the concert venue, it’s nearing 3 a.m., and all three of us unanimously conclude that this calls for a trip to Denny’s.  
   
Sleep deprivation is not a good look on me, despite however much Kate insists that the dark bags under my eyes make me look edgier. We sang loudly the lyrics, and Kate serenaded the waitress who blushed all the way from her cheeks to her chest. It was a beautiful moment for this family’s history.  
   
   
‘What’s on the wall, sweetie?’  
   
A deep inhale, a look. I dropped my fork on the table and slapped a hand against my mouth trying not to gag. I looked away and blinked hard a few times hoping that this would make it go away like it usually does. I looked back at the wall, and it’s still there.  
   
The red and white walls of Denny’s are painted over with blood, dripping down like crimson rivulets, the smell of iron leaving a metallic taste in my mouth. Spelled out in curved writing is: ‘This is all your fault, you did this, this is all your fault.’  
   
I look down compulsively at my hand that was holding the fork, blood covering it completely from the tips of the fingers to the elbow, over the sleeves of my jacket as if it were a slime substance. The smell getting stronger and stronger – more pungent, leaving me to wonder how nobody else is smelling it, everyone looks so calm.   
   
“Nix?” I look to my mom, her voice breaking through my train of thought. It’s a mistake, her mouth is dripping out blood, crimson tears running down her face thickly. I leap back, almost knocking off my chair in the process.  
   
“Nix? What’s wrong?” Kate’s voice reaches my ears next, her normally brown eyes now gaping holes dripping blood into her clothes, her food, the floor. Mouth set in a grim line, blood pushing through despite her mouth being closed.  
   
‘You did this, you monster.’  
   
‘This is what happens when you’re a worthless animal.’  
   
‘WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?!’  
   
I flinch back from them, my mother’s disembodied voice screeching inside my head. I walk off, mumbling something about needing to use the bathroom. I close the door behind me and run into the big stall, the one with the sink and everything in it. My arms are still covered in blood, my mother’s disembodied voice being joined at by my sister’s. Both their voices cursing at me, telling me the truth about how much of a failure I am.   
   
Nobody was noticing, so it wasn’t real, right?  
   
   
‘Only you can see it.’  
   
‘It’s real, there’s blood everywhere and it’s your fault.’  
   
‘It’s their blood.’  
   
‘You did this!’  
   
‘YOU DID THIS TO US!’  
   
I bent over, leaning into the sink and taking deep breaths trying to ignore them. Not now, please not now, I was having a good day for the first time in weeks, why can’t I just have a good day?! God damnit! Before I know what I’m doing, I slam my hand against the sink, the sound deafening in the silence of the bathroom.  
   
My breathing quickened, the pain in my hand spreading up my arm but not doing anything to stop the voices.   
   
I did that, I did all of that. Oh my god, why? They’re going to blame me when they find out and they’ll kill me, they’re going to fucking kill me. How did that happen?! I don’t remember doing it, maybe I was doing it unconsciously? Did Cheshire take over? Can she do that? There was blood everywhere, how did everyone look so calm?   
   
I crouched down on the floor lifted my sleeve. I look down at the cuts and wonder if it’ll bleed too much if I just rake my nails down a little, or dig them? Anything to quiet the voices down, anything.  
   
I contemplate this for a whole minute, before digging my nails into one of the cuts, it reopening painfully almost instantly. The relief came slower, the more cuts I dragged my nails over, the quieter the voices became.   
   
Vehement whispers in the back of my mind beg me to just do it. Their voices frantic and pathetic. I tell them that I wish I could; I wish I had a razor here with me, so I could just drag the voices out, make them bleed all over the floor.  
   
I slowly got up from my crouching position and turned on the water on the sink. I slowly put my arm in, the freezing cold water feeling like tiny knifes impaling my arm all over again, it felt relieving.  
   
I dried off my arm with the electric dryer and opened the door, leaving the bathroom hesitantly, dreading the sight that would welcome me back. Kate’s bleeding, gaping eyes and mom’s bleeding mouth. I walked over with my head lowered, a futile attempt at concealing my blood shot eyes. When I sat down on my chair, I finally willed myself to look up, readying myself for the scarring images only to be greeted with my mother’s normal, unbeaten face. She looks worried, her fingers drumming out a tune on the table and her face projecting her concern.  
   
W-what? I thought…  
   
“Nixon…what happened there? Don’t tell me nothing, nor that you’re fine or I swear to god– “I looked back at her and tried to smile a little to appease her worry. It didn’t work.  
   
“I – I’m sorry, mom. I just started freaking out and had to leave for a sec, probably all the excitement left over from the concert or something, it happens, ok? I just had a small panic attack in the bathroom at Denny’s at four in the morning, I can’t be the first.” I laugh a little at that, because it is funny, even though it technically wasn’t a panic attack. Thankfully, the message was sent and received:  
   
“It was just a small panic attack, but I worked through it and I didn’t even have to do breathing exercises, it was great!” Not great at all, a panic attack is never great, but whatever.  
   
They didn’t buy it, but they let it go- for now.   
   
We drove home in silence, exhaustion pulling at our eyelids. That night, I slept fine for the first time in days. The next few days passed in a blur, the voices becoming more and more insufferable as the days passed. I felt as though half the time I was in a war, trying to stop the voices from conquering every corner of my mind. The voices screamed and screeched at the most inappropriate of moments, their unanimous torturing of my mind leaving me unaware of my surroundings most of the time. Mom and Kate are worried about me, asking me constantly what’s wrong, but the voices sound so much like him, telling – threatening to hurt me if I tell anyone, and they will. They have, and they’re not afraid o do it again.  
   
Cheshire seems to follow me everywhere now, her pernicious smile haunting my every turn of the head, whenever I did anything, she seemed to be there, a malevolent glowing red in my peripheral. Disquiet seemed to make my stomach roll all the time, my appetite diminishing and becoming almost nonexistent. She seemed to dictate my every decision, feeding doubts into my mind with anything I said.  
   
Cutting became my guilty pleasure, the feeling of the blade cutting through my skin, the beads of blood appearing almost instantly and calming the raging storm ravaging every slight of reality my mind had fought to stay attached on. The blood calmed me in the sleepless nights, dark red so distinct against Cheshire’s glowing vibrant red that only seems to bring agitation to the already upturned table.  
   
Tonight, the day before Kate and I need to leave New York and go back to Florida, Cheshire is sitting next to the bathtub. Everything seems to have gone numb. My head falls limply to the side of the tub, my arms resting on my sides tinting the water a clear pink color. Cheshire’s sharp grin is beside me, her ruby chatoyant eyes piercing my body.   
   
“You’re so good, Nix.” Her voice rolls over me like poison, the toxicity of it making my head pound. The voices didn’t disappear this time; they’ve been doing that more often, staying in the back of my mind as constant whispers, waiting for the right moment to pounce- ready for the kill.   
   
“You’re such a good boy, Nix.” Her monstrous, claw-like hand kneading at my wet hair. The feel of her imbuing fear inside me. The numbness disappeared for a second, a deep frightened inhale being dragged into my body. She’s always doing this, reminding me of thins that I never wish to remember again.   
   
A sound disrupts my train of thought, on my side is my phone, a little light signaling a new message.  
   
‘Don’t pick it up, Nix.’  
   
‘Why are you so stupid?’  
   
‘DON’T PICK IT UP!’  
   
I look down at my side and pick it up, wincing at the strain it takes on my body to move it, it feels as though a thousand pounds were weighing down on me.  
   
Jamie:  
10:43pm: Babeeeeeeeeeeeee  
   
Jamie:  
10:43pm: can I call u???  
   
Me:  
10:44pm: yeah  
   
After I answered, I realized that it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell her yes while I’m here in the bathtub, bleeding into the water.  
   
The phone rings and I hit the answer button, Jamie’s exited voice feeling the speaker immediately. I try to ignore Cheshire’s vehement glare.  
   
“Heyyyy! I’m so exited you’re coming back tomorrow,”  
   
“Yeah…me too.” I am, I love my mother a lot, but the voices don’t seem to leave me alone no matter how much I try. Hopefully, going back home will make them less intense.  
   
“So, what’ve you been up to?”  
   
“Not much, today we just stayed inside and watched movies, it was way too cold to go outside.”  
   
We talked for two hours, the voices leaving me alone for more than an hour for the first time in three days. Jamie’s voice penetrating through whatever barrier the voices tried to form inside my mind to torture me. At the end, she was yawning every few seconds, we decided to cut the call and go to sleep – hopefully.  
   
“I love you, Jamie, a lot.”  
   
“Love you a lot too, Nix.”


	8. Good?  Never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> \- psychotic episode  
> \- self harm

When Kate and I arrived home, I was exhausted. I felt as though I would collapse any moment. Every bone and muscle in my body felt a thousand times heavier than they are supposed to be. It’s Sunday afternoon by the time I awake again, the sweet aroma of food traveling all the way upstairs. My stomach growled as I stood up, wincing at the way my body felt – grimy and in obvious need of a shower. I feel great though.  
   
I grabbed an oversized long-sleeved shirt and some shorts, deciding that there’s no way I’m dressing nowhere close to appropriate. I don’t need to impress anybody. After my shower, I look at the mirror and notice that for once, I don’t look dead, I look awesome actually – even with my ugly as fuck clothing, I look really hot. I laughed suddenly, Cheshire isn’t here either, I knew that I just needed a little change in scenery. This is awesome. My eyes actually look better, more electric than normal, they’re so beautiful.  
   
I look at the mirror and smile at myself, my smile looks so white – I’ve always loved my smile. My hair looks darker, the black looking as if it were dyed- but it’s not, I’m all natural, baby. I bite my tongue a little, and get even closer to the mirror, even my dark circles seem to have vanished, I look so good. I look hot.  
   
I run out of the bedroom and skip down the hallway, making as much noise as I can because I’m just that amazing. I start laughing my ass off, no idea why, but that’s just how I am today – I’m happy. I feel happy.  
   
“Someone’s strangely in a good mood today, what’s the occasion – did someone you hate die?” I looked up from where I bent over laughing and saw Kate sitting down on one of the chairs in the counter.   
   
‘Oh, ha ha, very funny, but no, nobody’s dead…yet.” Kate quirks an eyebrow at me, us staring at each other for a second before we burst out laughing again, what the hell’s wrong with us?  
   
‘What the hell’s wrong with you?’  
   
“Shut up,”  
   
“The fuck, you asshole?” I look up at Kate and see her glaring at me for a second while I’m over here shitting my pants, because did I really just answer a random voice out loud? Did Kate not hear that? Probably not. I’m still crazy. This made me laugh out loud again, me having to lean on the wall from how hard I’m laughing. Tears are falling out of my eyes by now, me futilely trying to wipe them away.  
   
“Nix, what the fuck?! Are you high?!” I look up at Kate at her question, do I look like the type to be high? Am I high? If I am, I don’t remember having snorted nothing…no clue.  
   
Kate’s eyes suddenly go wide, and she stands up and comes closer to me. She grabs my face and I snort while she makes me look down at her directly. Kate stills my face and looks directly into my eyes, searching for something. What’s she trying to find? Fucking Hogwarts or something? I know! Camp Half-Blood, my eyes are blue enough to be godly or some shit.  
   
“Nix…Are you high?” I snap back into reality and grin at Kate, where the fuck will I get drugs? I have no idea how people get drugs.  
   
“Nope!” I smile down at her and when she gives me a suspicious look, I laugh again. “I don’t even know where to get drugs, Katelyn, I mean, sure, there’s that creepy sophomore dude that’s always high, but he’s scary. He looks like he could rape me or something, I am irresistible though.” I laugh again, Kate looks so bewildered – it’s hilarious.  
   
“Your pupils are so dilated, Nix…your eye’s almost all black.” I frown a little at that, is it? I take out my phone and turn on the camera, they are. I grin a little at my reflection and hit the button, I look so good in that selfie. I chuckle a little and decide to send it to Jamie, she’s so beautiful. Jamie and I are literally the hottest couple.  
   
“Whatever, Kate, you’ve always thought I’m a stoner anyways.” I giggle a little at that and enter the kitchen, hitting the door loudly to startle my dad. It worked.  
   
“THE FUCK! MOTHERFUCKER! SHIT! Shit, oh my god,” I smirked as my dad almost fell to the ground while screaming at me loudly. Ha! That’s for all those years of playing peek-a-boo, you motherfucker (literally). I burst out laughing again at that, honestly, I feel drunk and my sides hurt.  
   
Nix, you need help. Stahp.  
   
“Just for that, you’re not getting dinner, you little ass.” Dad points his spatula at me and I pout at him, widening my eyes more than what they already are.  
   
“Dad, Nix is high,” I hear the devil’s voice behind me and turn at her glaring. What the fuck is up with that bitch? I ain’t high, the only one who’s gon’ be high after this is her after I fucking throw her off a building.  
   
“Nix, what the fuck?”  
   
“Dad! I’m not high, Kate just thinks that I’m high because I’m in a good mood.” I roll my eyes at that, honestly, one would think that it’s illegal to be happy.  
   
“Oh yeah you dipshit? Why are you going around like a hyena on crack?” I scoff at that, am not. Just because she doesn’t know what fun is, doesn’t mean she can ruin my one good day by lying at dad.  
   
“I-I…I just feel so excited.” I look at both of them with my brows furrowed, that’s a little weird, I’m literally never in the zone.  
   
“…okay…”  
   
I grin at dad and stick my tongue out at Kate, bitch. Fucker thinks she can ruin my good day? Ha!  
   
   
   
I lay down on Jamie’s bed next to her, we’re watching ‘Those People’ on Netflix, and I’m right over here not knowing whether I want to cry, laugh, cringe, or just fling myself off a building. I’m leaning towards flinging myself off a building.  
   
It’s not that it’s a bad movie, I just feel so restless and I feel as though words are just trying to burst out of my mouth, but I can’t because Jamie’s transfixed in the movie and shit. I let my eyes roam around her bedroom, she has no posters, how does that work? How does one have no posters? I look back towards the movie and see the two guys kissing, okay, that’s hot, like, really hot. Fuck! Nope, nope, grandma’s saggy tits, nope. A blush climbs into my face as I shift a little under the covers, I just got a little hard watching that make-out session. Weird, I literally almost never get hard at actual sexual displays, it used to happen more at food than at people. At one point I just thought I was asexual because it was basically dead, or not going up when it was supposed to. Now, though, I just consider myself demisexual, that’s a thing I fund not too long ago, and it seemed to apply to me enough.   
   
God, I hate physics, that class is such a bore. Waste energy? More like waste of energy.   
   
I snorted a little at myself and smiled apologetically at Jamie when she glared at me, oops.  
   
The voices haven’t talked to me today, it feels so weird. Maybe they got bored with me and moved to the other person? Can they do that? Can I do that?  
   
I used to try and play instrument when I was younger, I tried guitar and drums, but I never go anywhere. I like music but singing it – I’m pretty awesome at it.   
   
I look back at the movie and notice the credits are rolling, how long was I thinking for? Sometimes I literally just spazz out and I have no clue what I’m doing. What has life come to? I literally cut to feel better. I laughed a little at that, a small pang of emotions passing through me so quickly that I dismissed it.  
   
“Nix! Pay attention to meee,” I look to my side and see J pouting at me, her dark skin looking lighter now that the sun’s only appearing for show.  
   
“Sorry, babe, spaced out a little.”  
   
“What’d you think of the movie?” I had to think about this a little, mainly because I spaced out a lot.   
   
“It was cute, I liked it.”  
   
“Right?! I’m so watching that movie again, it was so cute.” Yeah…okay, I have no idea how it ended. Jaimie was smiling at me though, so I guess it wasn’t that bad. When we watch a bad movie, she’s always glaring as if the world would cave in and give her back those three hours wasted.  
   
Speaking of gay relationships and cuteness, I randomly decided sometime this day – while strutting around school like a psycho – that I’d come out as bi to J today while we’re on our pajama date.  
   
“I love seeing LGBTQ+ movies, it’s good to have some representation of more genders and sexualities, though guys kissing is hot too.” Oh god, okay, honestly, same.  
   
“Well, Jamie, I have something to tell you and you’ll be perfectly fine with it because I’m awesome and you love me, but I’ve been dragging this out for about two months now, so…” Jamie looks at me questioningly and frowns a little. I snort a little at her face and smile, okay, why am I in such a good mood? Shouldn’t I be freaking out or something?  
   
“I’m bi, like so bi, I had my bi awakening with Ansel Elgort about a month ago – have you seen his ‘Thief’ video? Fuck me, that man is hot,” ok, yes, I rambled.  
   
I look over at Jamie who’s mouth seemed to have opened, her jaw now resting – probably uncomfortably – on the floor. A few more seconds, almost a minute actually, of staring Jamie starts laughing loudly. I’m confused. Is this acceptance? Wut?  
   
“Oh my god, yes, this is awesome! My boyfriend’s by! YES! I SCORED HIM BITCHES!” Jamie is now dancing on her bedroom, shaking her ass and shit. I ain’t complaining, but… “scored me”? The hell?  
   
“Um…”  
   
I don’t even have to formulate a sentence, and Jamie’s throwing herself at me and kissing me. I kiss her back, closing my eyes and moving my lips along with hers. I wrapped my hands around her waist and pull her closer, her sitting on my lap now.  
   
Her parents aren’t home. Shit, yes.  
   
My hands slipped under her shirt and I placed them there, not really sure whether she wants me to do more or just stay like this. I swipe my tongue on J’s lower lip and she moans, low and sensual. Fuck.  
   
She opens her mouth and I slide my tongue in, my tongue pushing against hers for a little while. We stayed like that for a little while, our tongues dancing around each other, small sounds escaping me when she started sucking on my neck, her tongue swiping against my sweet spot again and again, a low groan escaping me making me blush. Okay, I officially sound like a slut.   
   
Jamie giggled a bit at that, coming back to my mouth and plunging her tongue deep inside my mouth. Shit, is she trying to choke me? Chase her tongue back towards her own mouth and lean forwards, laying her down on her back with me on top, my hands moving up to beside her head to hold my body up and not crush her with my fat ass.  
   
By now, my pants are way too tight, I’m fully hard now. I moan again, at the feeling of her hands move under my shirt, traveling down to my stomach before trailing back up again and trying to remove it. I almost helped her until I realized that nope, she can’t see that. Fuck, fuck! I soften a bit, at the image of my scarred over arms flashing before my eyes making me feel disgusted.  
   
I got an idea, and gently removed her hands from under my shirt. That’s not happening. I kiss her neck a little, sucking on it until I’m sure I left a hickey. I keep traveling down, leaving little kisses on her stomach where her shirt had ridden up a little. I kiss underneath her bellybutton and hook my fingers under the waistband of her pants.  
   
I look up at her to see her reaction, she’s looking down at me shocked, lust evident in her eyes. I raise my eyebrows at her, a silent question.  
   
“Yes, yes! Oh god, yes,” okay, seems like she wants it. I chuckle a bit and lower her pants slowly down her legs. The pink underwear she has underneath wet, I put my hands on her thighs and spread them, looking at Jamie the whole time, I see she’s breathing heavily and her hands are fisting the sheets. My own hard on pressing uncomfortably against my pants, not yet. She comes first (literally).  
   
I kissed her mound over her underwear, smirking at the gasp I heard from her, before sliding the underwear off.  
   
I press my mouth against her left inner thigh, smirking at the shiver that traveled through her body. I kissed my way down to her before stopping. Jamie’s hands come up to my head and she grips my hair, hard but not too hard, though I probably wouldn’t mind too much.  
   
I lick at her, gazing over at her to see her eyes shutting closed. The corners of my mouth turn up a little, before I burry my tongue into her entrance, a loud sound escaping her at that.  
   
I moan a little, moving my fingers and massaging her clit. Jamie’s hip thrust forwards and I move my other hand onto her hip, holding her down. With my thumb still massaging her clit, I move my other fingers down to her entrance and rub between her folds, my fingers getting wet almost instantly from how wet he was. I slowly enter my middle finger into her up to the knuckle and bent it, massaging her front walls, my tongue still rubbing her entrance. Jamie’s moans keep getting louder, her hips thrusting against the two fingers inside her.   
   
“N-Nix, I’m gonna – I’m gonna…” She cut off with a loud moan, a small smirk pulling at my lips. I thrust my fingers in and out of her, scissoring her open and showing my tongue in there. A few more moments of this, she stills, her head thrown back into a silent scream and she comes, her slick filling up my mouth and it wasn’t that great, to be honest, but she enjoyed it. I slowly move my fingers out of her. Jamie moans lowly, her eyes open now before she slowly looked at me and smirked.  
   
“Come here,” I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and moved forwards, Jamie carding her fingers through my hair before kissing me hard. We made out a few more minutes, Jamie then getting up and returning the favor (with a blow job, it was great). She went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up, me wondering if I was going to have to walk to my home with vagina breath and thanking the almighty Apollo for when Jamie came out of the bathroom and handed me a toothbrush while smirking.   
   
Both of us laid down on the bed, cuddling for a while in silence.  
   
“You’re demisexual and bisexual, right?” I looked down at Jamie where she was resting on my chest and saw her looking up at me with a small smile on her face.  
   
“Yeah…basically, yeah.” I nodded at her, because that’s what I decided I finally identified as, because even though I have no idea how people describe their sexualities, it’s more about how I feel in them.  
   
“Cool,” We smiled at each other and laughed softly, right at this moment I felt as though none of the bad things could touch me, all of them away in a different dimension.  
   
“So…was I any good?” I laughed loudly at Jamie’s shocked and embarrassed face.  
   
That day when I got home on my own - dad is still mad at me from Sunday and is ignoring me – I laid down on my bed looking up at the ceiling. I love Jamie so much, she’s everything I could ever ask for in a girlfriend and more. She’s not possessive, she’s the chilliest girl to ever exist. We rarely fight, and when we do, it’s either because of something stupid or either of us are on our periods (man periods are a thing, fight me) and we clashed. Whenever the aforementioned happens we just take a little break from each other of a few hours and then we talk about it and resolve it. I don’t know why we’re like that, but it’s probably because we both try to listen to each other, and that helps prevent problem sometimes. That’s the conclusion I’ve come to anyways.  
   
“Did you enjoy your little party, you whore?” No, please don’t, I was having a good few days. These last three days the voices had rarely popped up.  
   
‘Slut’  
   
‘You think doing this makes you special? She’s probably just using you.’  
   
‘Just like your uncle.’  
   
“Shut up! She’s nothing like him, she loves me you assholes! She’s not the one that raped me, he was.” Tears pricked at my eyes as I said this, I know Jamie will get bored of me sooner or later, no need to remind me.  
   
Cheshire appeared beside me, her glowing body flashing like thunder beside me.  
   
“You’re nothing but a failure, sweetie. Why would you ever thing she loves you?” Her grin stretched again, pointy teeth glinting in the darkness of the room.  
   
Why are you here? Why do you need to ruin everything good for me? Leave me alone for once, god damnit. Why does everything have to be ruined for me? Am I so stupid that I don’t deserve anything? Am I too much of a slut? Too much of a failure? What the fuck is wrong with me?!  
   
‘Kill yourself, Nix.’  
   
‘You have no friends anyways.’  
   
‘They all hate you.’  
   
‘They won’t miss you.’  
   
‘They’ll be relieved.’  
   
“Sweetie, make me proud of you, you know how to make me proud of you.” Cheshire’s eyes glinted as she looked at me, everything else seeming o flood out from existence.  
   
“Make me proud, sweetie, be the good boy I know you are.”   
   
Next thing I know, I’m jumping off the bed, grabbing a towel and rushing to the bathroom. Once I was inside the shower, I took out my razor and looked down at my right wrist, it’s already filled with scars, disgusting and ugly scars.   
   
My gaze feels transfixed on my wrist, red gashes running all the way from my wrist to my forearm, it had become a nightly affair while in NY…everything felt great…  
   
‘DO IT!’  
   
I change the blade from hand, might as well be overly ugly. I slice the blade for the first time through my left wrist, the sting welcomed- relieving.  
   
The voices get louder, a disorganized mess inside my head of insults and threats. Voices of familiarized strangers tormenting me inside my own brain, screeching out to inculcate their dominance.  
   
‘GO DEEPER!’  
   
‘WHAT’S THAT ON THE WALL?’  
   
‘YOU’RE SUCH A FAILURE.’  
   
‘KILL YOURSELF YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING!’  
   
“SWEETIE, BE A GOOD BOY.”  
   
‘LOOK AT THE WALL NIXON.’  
   
‘YOU HAVE NO FRIENDS, THEY ALL HATE YOU.’  
   
‘THEY’RE JUST PRETENDING TO LOVE YOU.’  
   
‘YOUR FAMILY HATE YOU, IT’S YOUR FAULT THEY ARE BROKEN UP.’  
   
‘IF YOU WEREN’T SUCH A WHORE, EVERYTHING WOULD BE FINE.’  
   
‘THE ONLY REASON SHE LET YOU DO THAT IS ‘CAUSE SHE FEELS BAD.’  
   
“Sweetie, kill yourself, nobody loves you – nobody WANTS YOU.”  
   
Somewhere around there, I fell to the floor of the shower, the pain not registering inside my brain. The only thing I could fully register were the loud and jarring laughs exploding inside my brain as the voices started getting out of control, their screams becoming more and more brash with each second past. I didn’t notice the sobs falling from my mouth, nor the tears rolling down my face at a crazy speed. I looked down at my unmarked left wrist and ragged the bade horizontally once.   
   
When that didn’t work, I did it again and again, each cut deeper than the last, blood pouring out in heavy amount when I had many cuts in my arms. The cuts starting in straight lines and going down in wild patterns, the voices not stopping, their loud voices mocking me, belittling me. It’s not really belittling if I know I’m basically shit.  
   
The voices still screaming at me, I scratch at my chest, my thighs, my head trying to claw them off because they need to stop. I grab the razor again and slash at my thighs, maybe I’ll pass out, maybe I’ll die, hopefully I’ll die. I slash again and again, my movements jerky and wild, no reasoning left in my brain just the need for them to stop.  
   
I chucked the razor away from me and sobbed underneath the shower for a while, the voices not stopping even as I shut off the shower water. When I rubbed my face slightly in exasperation, I could hear my sister’s incessant pounding on the door; the noise bringing me back slightly.   
   
“Nixon! For the fucking love of god, why must you always take so long to shower?!” The noise on the door stopped and I got up from the floor, drying myself and putting on my black long-sleeved shirt. I’ll need gauze, the cuts will bleed over my clothes. I look down at my thighs and see that they’ve stopped bleeding, but the cuts are long and tender to the touch. Whatever movements I made making me feel as though the pain were traveling through my whole leg.  
   
‘You deserve worse, fag.’  
   
‘Kill yourself, nobody will miss you.’  
   
‘Die’  
   
No, no. No, no, no, no, please stop. Some of the voices laugh, mocking me. A harsh glow appears to my side and I slump. Why can’t she just leave me alone? I need a break. I sigh slowly, surprised that Cheshire’s not saying something for once. She’s just silently beside me, staring at me blankly.  
   
“Nix! Get out already, come on,” Kate whines, probably leaning against the door for a full show.   
   
I quickly put my sleeping pants on, the soft cotton rubbing against my cuts uncomfortably. I bend down and open the vanity’s little drawer. I take out the medical tape and some gauze, wrapping it with my towel so that Kate doesn’t question me. I open the bathroom door roughly, two things happening at once: me yelping because of the pain the movement brought to my wrist, and Kate almost falling because she was stupidly leaning on the door when I opened it. Seriously, who leans on doors? If you want to be edgy and lean against something all the time like Kate, use walls, not doors that can open and make you fall to your death.  
   
“Honestly! I thought you’d died in there or something,” I chuckled along with her only because of the irony. I wish I was dead in there, but I’m not (‘Yet’). A little smirk pulled at the corners of my lips, these voices are so keen on me dying, I might as well.   
   
“Yeah well, still alive to be a pain on your ass.”  
   
“Regretfully,” ouch. Kate pushed me out of the way and slammed the bathroom door, her laughter loud enough to reach my ears through the door.  
   
‘See? They won’t miss you.’  
   
I turned around and almost bumped into Cheshire, her tall frame beside me still. I turned around and walked down the hall to my bedroom, Cheshire’s gaze following me down the hall, a red glow appearing on the walls because of her presence.   
   
As soon as I entered my bedroom, I closed the door and locked it. I sat down on my bed after undressing, the angry red cuts looking slightly swollen. I look at them all closely for the first time in a while, disgust and hopelessness rolling out of me in waves. After this, nobody’s even going to like my body, I’m disgusting. The slashes on my thighs vary, some long and shallow while others are deep and jagged. This is going to be a pain tomorrow, and for the next few days; weeks. I sigh again, unwrapping some gauze and putting it where the deepest cuts on my wrists are, doing the same with the ones on my thighs. I hide the gauze and medical tape on my shirt’s drawer, in the far corner where it won’t be visible – nobody ever opens my drawers, but with my luck, this is when they’ll decide it’s a good idea to look around my drawers.  
   
Cheshire is still beside me, her presence silent but loud. why isn’t she talking? She always has something to say.  
   
‘You made her mad, you whore.’  
   
‘She hates you now.’  
   
‘After everything she’s done for you, you repay her this way.’  
   
‘You’re a waste of space.’  
   
It kept going like this for the whole night, my eyes not closing once because of the ceaseless blabbering. They never stop, always insulting me – it’s supposed to stop hurting after a while…it doesn’t, you just desensitize from it for a while.


	9. Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> \- Gory hallucinations  
> \- Self harm  
> \- Break up  
> \- Isolation  
> \- Extremely unstable  
> \- Panic attack

“Nix, what’re you doing today?” I looked over at Matt, they were looking at me with a big smile on their face. 

“Going home and probably going out with my dad, he wants to take us shopping or something,” that’s a lie. I’m not doing anything with dad today, he’s staying at work until later than usual today, but Matt doesn’t need to know that. In all honesty, I want to be alone today, I’m too tired to think about doing anything but obviously, Matt doesn’t need to know that. They’ll be perfectly fine without knowing that information.

‘He doesn’t care about you anyways’

Fuck off for once, god fucking damnit.

“Nix?”

“Hm?” I hum, looking up at Matt again to see them furrowing their eyebrows, I must’ve spaced out again.

“Are you sure you’re okay, man? You’ve looked very…depressed recently,” Matt frowned deeply, the concern rolling off them in waves, I feel like such a bad friend.

“Yeah Matt, I’ve just been tired lately,” I smiled at them, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace like the rest of my recent smiles. Smiling has become such a chore lately, it feels unnatural.

“Nix, you’re always tired, you have bags under your eyes and you look half dead all the time, stop lying to us, Jamie is worried sick about you,” they’re glaring at me now, their piercing eyes boring into my own empty ones. Matt’s right, I need a new excuse, that one’s getting old.

“Look, Matt, I just haven’t been feeling very good lately…I’m fine, you guys shouldn’t worry about me.”

“Of fucking course I worry about you! The actual fuck, Nixon?! How can you just stand there with a straight face and tell me not to worry when you always look like you’re a step away from killing yourself?” They throw their hands exasperated with me already; fed up. Despondency bubbles up inside me, my worthlessness being shoved into my face again.

‘You’re worthless, Nixon, nobody will miss you.’

I bite my lip and look down, my eyes watering slightly and me fighting wholeheartedly to keep them down, the least thing right now is to burst out sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry, I-,” I stop, my voice cracking, the feeling of being choked up making me feel even worse. I can’t even have a normal conversation without crying, I’m so pathetic – such an idiot.

“Nix, why – no, come here,” Matt rushes forwards and hugs me just as a sob rips from my throat. Why am I such a failure? I can’t do anything, I’m just a stupid piece of shit that doesn’t deserve anything at all, why does anyone even put up with me?

“Come on, Nix, let’s go to the bathroom so people don’t start bothering us,” I untangle myself from Matt’s grip and they hold my hand leading me to the bathrooms. They push open the bathroom door and we walk quickly inside, Matt locking the door behind us – probably against school rules.

They bring me into their arms again and I break. Everything that’s been holing itself inside me pours out, sobs racking my body. At some point the bell for the last class rings, but when I try to pull away, Matt held me tighter, telling me that we’d stay here until I’m better. I’m such a burden, the only thing I do is ruin everything I come into in contact with.

A while later, when I finally stop sobbing, I untangle myself from Matt’s grip and lean back onto the wall. I rub my eyes, a few tears falling again.

“Nix…what’s going on?” I look up into Matt’s worried glance and sigh again, I want to tell them but…I can’t. 

“Is it the thing with your…uncle? Is it that we know? Because you’ve been avoiding us lately and…I miss you a lot, I just hope you know that I don’t think of you any differently from before you told us, you’re still the same Nix,” tears sprung to my eyes again from Matt’s words. They don’t think I’m messed up? A whore? They must have the biggest heart in the world.

“Um…yeah,” I wince again, my voice cracking slightly, sounding weak and watery, “that’s…yeah, that’s – I just thought that you’d think I’m messed up and since I’m bi, I thought you’d think I wanted it or something -,” wait, fuck! They didn’t know I’m bi, shit. I wasn’t supposed to tell them like this. Can I be any more of a failure? I just basically took the prize and cake for the Worthless and Stupid As Fuck Award. I put my face in my hands and just weep, I just fucked up everything. I’ll be alone, and the only company I’ll have is Cheshire and her lackeys, I’ll go crazy. I’ll go crazy if I’m alone, I already feel alone enough. 

Matt’s going to leave me and soon so will Jamie and I’ll be truly alone. Nobody will love me anymore and I’ll be alone; I can’t be alone, I don’t want to.

“Nix? What’s happening?! Fuck, is this a panic attack?” I look up into Matt’s scared face, beds of sweat are rolling down my face now, the exertion of trying to bring air into my lungs too much.

I’m dying, I can’t breathe – I’m dying. Maybe I should, I don’t deserve to be alive and wasting oxygen, I should be dead. I should -,”

“Nixon, here, breathe with me, follow my breathing, come on,” Matt wrapped their arms around me in a hug and tucked my face into their chest. I still can’t breathe and I’m trapped, I’m trapped.

“Here…um, breathe in five and hold for three, like this, yeah, out seven, yeah, good,” ok, we’re doing breathing exercised, I can do this, ok. Breathe in five, hold three, out seven. Breathe in five, hold three, out seven. A few more times, more than a couple and closer to a lot, my breathing turned back to normal, no longer the hyperventilating mess I was before.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Nix, no, you don’t need to say sorry for that, I shouldn’t have mentioned him and made you think about it, I was careless -,”

“It’s okay,” I cut them off mid rant, what happened-happened and I don’t need Matt to make up excuses for something that isn’t their fault. It’s my fault that I had a panic attack, it’s not theirs.

“No, Nix, really, I shouldn’t have said that, I know it’s probably a sensitive topic for you, I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” I looked at Matt’s face again, their tall figure looking tall even to me. Matt’s worrying their lip between their teeth, a clear sign that they’re nervous. I did my best to smile up at them, at the sight of their eyes lighting up a fraction I deemed it a success. My smile might not be real to me, but it is to them.

“Matt…it’s okay, I just started freaking out because I basically…came out to you? I wanted to do it differently than this, at least not in a dirty school bathroom after having a mental meltdown,” understanding downed in Matt’s face, and I felt my own cheeks heat up a little. I looked down and stared at Matt’s chest, anything is better than staring right into Matt’s face when their face fills up with disgust at me. 

My breath hitched when Matt stepped closer to me and hugged me tightly, my eyes widening. What? They aren’t disgusted? What?

“Nixon, I understand, when I came out to my mom it wasn’t necessarily ideal so…but she still accepted me, and I’ll accept you,” what? Are they okay? Did they hit their head and didn’t tell me?

“What?”

“Nix, you accepted me when I came out to you as genderfluid and you are the most understanding person I know, most of all, you’re my best friend, of course I’ll accept you,” I was still shocked, my eyes wide and staring at Matt, are they serious? 

“You’re not disgusted?”

“That would be really hypocritical of me, don’t you think?” They chuckled slightly at that and stared at me, I could only shake my head; thoughts muddled. I was so sure they would hate me and be disgusted, Cheshire said –

“You know I’m right, sweetie, they’re just hiding it well, they’ll abandon you,”

No, Matt’s being honest, I can see it in their eyes. Matt’s telling the truth, Cheshire was lying, what else was she lying about?! Is everything a lie?

“Nix, I could never hate you for anything. What he did was disgusting, I’m disgusted be him,” at Matt’s honest words I could feel a huge smile slip into my face; relieved, happy, exited, I felt everything at the same time and it’s amazing.

I lunged forward and hugged Matt tightly, a loud laugh bubbling out of me. I was so worried about this and everything turned out fine, she was wrong about this. They’re not disgusted by me, they’re supportive.

“I, um, I lied about going out with dad earlier…do you want to come over?”

“I knew it, but sure.”

 

Jamie found out about my panic attack that afternoon a few days later. Now she’s throwing me worried looks all the time, thinking that I’m going to mess up and cry- as if. I tried to tell her to stop being so worried about me, it’s usually the guy that thinks the girl is like glass in the relationship, not the other way round. She’s overbearing in a way, but I can’t tell her that because that’s be one) mean, and two) unappreciative of her and her feeling for me. I love her too much to burden her with things like these.

“Jamie, I promise I’m fine, please stop,” I rolled my eyes slightly at her in amusement. Right now she’s going on and on about how to deal with panic attacks, I already know that, that time…I had slight complications, “I used to have panic attacks all the time as a kid, I already know how to deal with them.”

“Still, Nix, Matt said you looked really bad, they told me that the ones you had before didn’t look that bad, and Nix…I’m scared for you,” I looked surprised at her, why is she scared for me? I’ve been fine these last few days. I’ve been working on my feelings.

“Why?”

“You’re always very happy when we’re talking to you, but other times you space out and look so sad, sometimes you even look mad about something and I’m worried, okay? I don’t think it’s normal to be so mad all the time.”

“Um…you know that I’m not mad because of you, right? I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and…yeah,” why did Matt need to tell her about my panic attack? Sure, they didn’t say anything about why I had the panic attack (mainly because they don’t actually know the true reason), but telling her about the mere fact that I had a panic attack was enough to make her worry for days, I don’t want any of them to be worried about me, I’m fine. Even when I’m not okay, I’m fine, I can deal with this on my own.

‘You’re such a burden to them all, you should just kill yourself and make them all a favor.’

‘You’ll be all alone in time, anyways, why not just get ON WITH IT?’

I grimaced, the sudden noise in my head throwing me off my ‘game’ a little. This “façade” needs to be perfect, she shouldn’t worry about me, I’ve been a burden all my life and it’s been enough, I’m tired of always being the weak one.

“God damnit, Nix!” I looked up from my bed at Jamie, alarmed at the sudden shout that isn’t inside my head (as far as I know), “Why can’t you just tell me what the fuck’s wrong with you?! Huh? Do you not trust me?! Why are you avoiding me all the time? I miss you, even now that we’re together it feels like we’re galaxies apart, just tell me what the hell is wrong, please,” Jamie’s voice quivered, pure, raw emotion noticeable in the very way she stood. Her arms clenched at her sides and her countenance in a frown it was very familiar with nowadays. I’m so useless.

“You’re just noticing now that you’re useless?!” I pursed my lips and scrunched up my face a little at Cheshire’s voice, her manic cackling interrupting the melody of Jamie’s high and angry voice.

My heart started pounding louder in my chest, reality crashing down on me. I do nothing but annoy her, she’s probably better off without me…

“Jamie…I think…” My breathing started quickening, coming out heavy pants, thoughts running through my head faster than I can process them.

Jamie’s better off without me, I can’t be selfish and keep holding her back like I’ve been doing these past months. I’m a liability at her side, she’s been trying to go forward with herself and us, but I’m just standing still or just plain-out going backwards. She should just break up with me, she should just leave me and be better, she’d be better off without me, she will be. The worst mistake was going out with her, she probably regrets ever asking me.

“Jamie, I-,”

“No, Nixon, I don’t want any more stupid “I’m sorry”s from you! I’m tired of you making up excuses and trying to avoid me!” She’s breathing hard by now, my wide eyes looking back at her narrowed and hatred-filled eyes. She hates me, she’s better off without me, but I’m selfish and I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to be alone, please. I can’t be alone, I’ll probably trip and die or something, I can’t be alone. Cheshire was right, why did I ever doubt her? She was right, everyone will leave me at some point, I’m just an extra and unneeded baggage at the side.

“She’s better off without you, sweetie, you’re just a monster.”

What? A mons – I’m not a monster…am I? 

I literally hear voices, I’m anything but an angel – I’m a monster.

“Sweetie, you’re a monster, you’re just an ugly whore; none of your friends love you, they all just put up with you – it seems like even that’s come to an end.”

She’s right, I’m just a stupid bitch, a whore. The only thing I’ll ever be good for is worrying people and spreading my legs. Jamie should just break up with me, Cheshire’s right, I’m just holding her back. I don’t deserve her, I’ll just save her the trouble and let her be.

“Nixon, please, I need you to understand that, well…I just want you to be honest, and if you can’t -,” no, no, no, no. don’t say it please. I don’t want it to be true, I know what I am, but I don’t want to hear Jamie confirming it.

“- I understand, I’m sorry I’m such a burden to you, I-I’ll go now, you don’t have to say anything – I know I’m useless and that I’m just holding you back, but-,”

“Nixon…what?” I looked over at Jamie who was staring at me incredulously, her brows still furrowed. She doesn’t need to try and spare my feelings, I know the truth – she hates me.

“I-I mean, you p-probably want to break up with me, so it’s fine, I know I’m just a failure and you were going to leave me sooner or later, we all knew it, really – better do it sooner, I’m just sorry I’m this much of a burden for you, I love you so much, but I’m s-sorry-,” I couldn’t even understand myself anymore, sobs racking my body as I got up from my bed to leave. I did it, I won’t hold her back anymore, I can’t be selfish. I can’t be a monster and hold her back just because I’m afraid of being alone.

“You deserve to be alone, anyways.”

“Nixon, what-,” no, no, no, this is what’s best for her, she doesn’t need me holding her back; I’m not worthy of her. I don’t deserve such a beautiful human such as Jamie, I’m way too low for her.

“No, Jamie, I’m not worth it, I’ll j-just hurt you-,”

“You’re hurting me right now!” Jamie’s voice cracks, and when I look at her, I see tears rolling down her perfectly dark cheeks. 

‘Great going asshole.’

‘This is why we always told you the truth.’

‘You’ll do nothing else but hurt them.’

‘You’ll be alone now, forever.’

“Jamie, you don’t get it-,”

“-I don’t get it?! Why the fuck are you doing this, Nixon?! What the fuck do you mean that I want to break up with you?! If you just wanted to leave me, don’t pin this on me! You stupid motherfucker, ugh! I hate you, fuck you!” The only thing my brain registered next was my bedroom’s door slamming shut and another slam from the front door. She hates me, I knew it, I fucking knew it.

“Sweetie, you’re just so despicable.”

‘You should kill yourself, that way you won’t burden anybody.’

‘Did you think she wouldn’t abandon you?’

‘You’re alone, just like you’re meant to be.’

“You don’t deserve neither of them, sweetie, you’re a MONSTER!”

I’m sitting on my bed, paralyzed, Cheshire’s and other silhouettes appearing. All except Cheshire’s flickering in and out of my vision, Cheshire’s as concrete and steady as ever.

She hates me, she hates me. I knew it, I don’t deserve her, I do deserve this. I should die, I don’t deserve to be alive, she’s way too good for me, Cheshire was right.

My thoughts started swirling around in my head, Cheshire and the other voices disorderly laughing at me.

I need my razor, I need to see the blood, I’m not okay right now, I need calmness. I get up quickly, tumbling over my own feet and sprint over to my drawer, picking up the little box I keep them on and slipping a razor outside. I’m still shaking uncontrollably, tears slipping like waterfalls out of my eyes making my vision blurry. Cheshire’s presence casts an eerie red glow to the room, her wide grin stretched unnaturally onto her face like always.

I slip my sleeve up quickly and dig the razor in slowly, digging into my flesh slowly and deliberately, making sure it hurt as much as possible. A shaky breath escaped me as I dug the blade in again and again, blood flowing freely from both of my wrists now. The voices are still there and Cheshire is still standing still beside me, but their presences are easier to ignore now that the blood is flowing out and my mind is transfixed in something, that one thing and all that pain dragging with it all of my attention.

I stand there staring at my bloody wrists for what feels like hours, the blood drying on my arm when I finally decide that I need to clean it up. I’ll go shower.

Once I’m in the shower, the thoughts start again, this time the cuts having brought less time of tranquility. The voices coming back full throttle, like a tidal wave just smashing against the sides of my brain.

“Sweetie, come on, she hates you, you’re alone now, DIG IT IN HARDER.”

I gasp loudly at the tone of voice Cheshire’s using. She sounds like an evil villain mocking me, none of the usual softness to her voice. 

I broke up with Jamie…I broke up with Jamie.

I try to suppress the thoughts until later, but they’re like the voices, insistent.

I broke up with Jamie and she hates me, that means that Matt will hate me, that means that I’m alone. I wanted to do this, because I don’t deserve her, but now I’m alone. I’m always a selfish bastard, why can’t I be selfish in my life for once?! I always need to go and fuck things up for myself – 

“You were fucked up from the beginning, sweetie.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck my no swearing policy (been doing that for a while now), fuck my stupidity, my idiocy, my hypocrisy, my voices, fuck it all! I don’t care anymore, I just want to die already, all of this is too hard, I can’t deal with all of this.

The boiling cascade of water hits my body as I just stand there under it with my blank stare at the wall. Cheshire is standing right next to my point of focus,m but I can’t move my body, I feel slow and tired.

I’ll be alone, I’m a burden, I’m a whore who spreads his legs for old men, I’m a horrible person. That earns another slash on the hip, I am useless.

I slide down the wall, the warm water hitting my body and burning. Once on the floor, I twirl the razor on my hand, the voices convincing me of the truth of my being.

I worthless, I’m stupid, I’m a slut, I’m a whore, I’m a hypocrite, I’m disgusting, I’m a monster, I’m useless, I’m just…horrible.

‘You’re stupid’

‘You’re so stupid; you’re an idiot!’

‘Spread your legs sweetie, yeah baby,’

 

I almost scream when I hear my uncle’s voice saying that. I remember vividly when he said that, why do they need to say this?

I spread my legs under the shower spray and grip the razor tightly in my hand. I lean slightly to the front and crave out four straight lines forming a ‘W’. I keep going down that road, the blood on my thighs becoming too much because of how deep I went with some of the letters.

I leaned back slightly, observing my newest beautiful piece, Worthless, pure truth carved into my thighs. The water down the drain is scarlet, darks spots start swimming around my vision, the blood still flowing out of my thighs.

“You’re such a good boy, sweetie, you make me so proud,” a smile crawled up on my face as Cheshire’s voice echoes omnisciently throughout the bathroom. For once in my life I’m not disappointing someone, I’m making her proud. I open my eyes slightly, my vision slightly blurry. I look down and feel a despairing feeling crawl up into my chest, I truly am worthless – I never deserved Jamie’s love and friendship. The only reason she probably went out with me is because I’m “exotic”, as other stupid people like to call it. I’m not beautiful, I’m not nice, I’m not even generally attractive – I’m a monster inside human flesh, I’m disgusting; volatile.

I don’t know how longs I stayed there on the shower floor, pain running up and down my leg working as the only comforting aspect of my life. I’m going to fail anyways, nothing will ever work out for me, I’m basically shit.

‘You know, you should’ve gone deeper.’

‘You’re disgusting; you’re truly alone now.’

‘Nobody will miss you.’

A thought stuck up in my head, a small sliver of hope blossoming inside me; becoming like the fetching beauty of an opium poppy flower; poisonous, eating at my insides.

“F-family, they won’t leave me, they -,” my mumbling cut off by Cheshire’s yelling.

“YOU THINK THEY CARE ABOUT YOU, SWEETIE?!”

“I’M THE ONLY ONE WHO CARES ABOUT YOU, THEY ALL JUST DEAL WITH YOU – they only tolerate you,” Cheshire appeared next to me again, her chatoyant ruby eyes showing her intense hate, glaring at me; liquid fire running through my veins and flowing out the deep wound in my thigh.

A deep, clawing feeling scratched at my chest; disappointment and disgust rolling off Cheshire in waves, her usually mocking demeanor now completely serious, her usual gory grin now turned into a frown.

I started hyperventilating, the screaming coming from Cheshire drowning me. She was proud, why isn’t she proud anymore? Why did I do?!

“I-I’m sorry, I t-try so hard -,”

“Not fucking hard enough, you stupid bitch, you’re so useless,” my breath hitched, Cheshire had never said anything without using “sweetie.”

“You don’t deserve it anymore, not until you stop being so stupid”

I should just die…

 

When I woke up, I was laying down on the shower floor, the water freezing my body and making me tremble. 

“Nix? You’ve been in there for more than two hours…Nix?” The sound of my father’s urgent and worried voice making me instantly come to focus. 

“Um…yeah, I-I’m almost done…” I’ll pretend my voice didn’t crack horribly.

“Okay, um…is everything okay? Jamie left crying earlier, and well…” the awkwardness in dad’s voice could be spotted from a ten mile radius. 

I tried to get up, wincing from the pull of the skin around the wound on my leg, the word looking ragged, the skin around the cuts looking red and swollen, I hope it’s not infected or anything.

“I do.”

Biting my lip and trying not to cry out, I got up from the floor and turned off the water, leaning against the wall heavily and panting with exertion. Jolts of pain traveled up and down my leg every time I so much as shifted it. I heavily sat down on the closed toilet and took out the first aid box we have under the vanity, thankful that I had put the gauze and medical tape back.

I quickly got to work and covered the long word in antiseptic, putting gauze on it and securing it with the medical tape, the wound looked too deep and tender to leave in the open. I might start bleeding through my pants and that’s way too hard to make an excuse for.

Did I faint? I don’t remember falling asleep; I just felt dizzy and exhausted, it probably was because of the blood loss, it felt good at the moment, the leftover pain is just the prize I need to pay.

I slowly slide into some black sweatpants I had brought with me and put on a long-sleeved black sweat shirt, I don’t want my colored shirts to be red if any of the cuts reopen.

I quickly wash my mouth and look at myself on the mirror, my eyes bloodshot and swollen. A red flash appears to my right, and in the mirror, Cheshire stands next to me. She’s not grinning anymore, her normally upturned mouth set down in a frown. It stings more than I care to admit.

“You better make me proud quickly, or you’ll be truly alone – you abandoned her, she hates you, and soon will everyone else.” 

She disappeared again. She’s right, everyone has always liked Jamie, and once they all find out that I broke up with her and hurt her feelings, they’ll hate me more than they do now. I hate myself so much, I can’t believe I hurt he like that, what was I thinking? Now not only was I never good enough for her, but now an insignificant shit such as myself has hurt her feelings.

I’m so fucking stupid, I don’t deserve her – or anyone – to care about me, I should’ve just killed myself earlier, that way I could get out of people’s ways and stop being a burden, a thorn in everyone’s sides.

A lone tear falls down my eye, my hand quickly moving up and wiping it away, I don’t deserve to cry; I should have to suffer in silence.

I quickly walk (limp) to the door and step outside, almost bumping into my father’s tall figure. I look up quickly, and try to smile at him, trying to ignore the worried glance he’s throwing down at me.

“Nix, are you okay? Do you…need to talk about it?” Dad was eyeing my face, probably seeing the unusual paleness of it and guessing that I’d been crying (the blood shot eyes probably sold me off too).

“Um, no, I-I’m fine, just had a lot on my mind, I don’t need to talk about anything, I swear,” I smiled at my dad and ignored how his eyes narrowed, stepping around him to go to my room. I was honestly not expecting his next move, dad’s hand shot out and grasped onto my wrist. A whimper escaped my body, accompanied by a sharp pained inhale as dad’s hand pulled me back by my wrist. Tears sprung to my eyes as the shirt scraped roughly against the cuts in my arm, dad’s strong grip making me not even try to wrench my arm back.

At the sound I made, dad quickly took his hand back and looked wide eyed at me, a scared look on his eyes as he stared at me and then down at my wrist. Oh no.

“This is why you’re such a failure, this is why you’re not “sweetie” anymore, this is why everyone hates you; you can’t do anything right.”

I slowly breathed in and out, staring back at my dad calmly as I tried to formulate an excuse for yelping like that that doesn’t require me to show my wrist.

“Nix…why-,”

“I fell in the shower and fell on my wrist a lightly, it just hurts a little,” I pursed my lips and looked down while saying this trying my hardest to sell it.

“Are you sure it’s not sprained or anything?”

“Yea, just hurts a tiny bit, nothing compared to when I sprained it,” I lifted the corners of my mouth slightly, knowing that if I smiled it’d look even more suspicious.

“Okay, but if it still hurts tomorrow, we’re going to go check it at the doctor’s.”

“Yeah okay, that’s fair,” I smiled a little wider, thankful that this had somehow worked. It soon fell though, if he’d found out about this, he’ll be so disappointed in me; he’ll hate me.

“Of course it is,” dad laughed and looked at me worriedly one more time before turning around and going down the hall into his bedroom. Good thing about living with dad: not having prying – but well-meaning – mothers pestering you.

‘Look at the wall, NOW!’ 

As if a compulsion, I looked at the wall and promptly gagged. The wall was painted red, a body underneath with a gaping hole in its chest. Upon further inspection, I realized it was Jamie’s body. The usually dark skin pale and mangled in some places, the chest gaping open without a heart inside.

‘It’s all your fault, YOU DID THIS, YOU’RE A MONSTER’

‘Look at it, you deserve to suffer’

I fell down on my knees, in front of me was Jamie’s heart, red with blood and still beating, the pulsing reaching my ears.

Thum…thum…thum…thum…

The rhythmic sound making my head feel cold and numb. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. I’m the reason why everything fails, it’s all my fault. She hates me, dad will hate me, Matt will hate me, everyone will hate me. I’ll be all alone.

“You’ll have me, sweetie.”

I looked up, startled, towards Cheshire’s silhouette kneeling in front of me. Her demeanor changed again, her piercing eyes now more dulled of their hatred. Her clawed hand caressed my cheek, my face involuntarily leaning to the side and into her touch. She stood up and when I looked back at the wall, all the blood had disappeared from the wall, Jamie’s mangled body now gone.

I got up from my knees and walked over to my bedroom, opening the door and stepping inside. Something flashed to my side, and when I looked, faces were staring at me from the wall, their crooked grins flashing once before they disappeared completely.

I threw my dirty clothes on the floor and limped over to my bed, sliding in and pulling the covers up and over my head, the darkness welcomed.

What am I doing?


	10. This is gonna hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> \- Heavy Depression  
> \- Panic attack  
> \- self harm  
> \- general sadness and angst  
> \- Look at tags  
> \- Careful

Three weeks have passed, April’s basically over. I’m numb.  
   
I just want school to be over so I don’t have to get up from my bed ever again, my body feels as if it were made from lead. Every morning when my alarm clock rings, it’s as if another weight more falls into my shoulders, the thought of having to get up and be productive making me wish I were dead.  
   
Cheshire’s become the only social interaction besides my father’s “hello’s” and “goodbye’s”. Matt stopped talking to me, avoiding making eye contact whenever I so much as get a sliver of hope that maybe they’ll understand where I’m coming from. I hate myself so much for hurting Jamie and Matt by extension, we were supposed to be the three of us forever, but I ruined it. I couldn’t stand the fact of ruining their lives for them this was, they don’t deserve me annoying them all the time.  
   
Whenever I’m walking through the school hallways and catch Jamie’s eye, all I see is a glare full of hate and dislike, Cheshire’s constant reminding me that I deserve it, I don’t deserve anything good when all I do is make people suffer.  
   
The cuts in my leg would’ve closed by now if I wasn’t opening it every other night, denying myself the relief of walking without pain, I deserve it.  
   
The voices have worsened, it’s at the point where sometimes I think something’s real and it’s not. The worst time was yesterday when I was walking home.  
   
It started with footsteps behind me, but whenever I looked back there was nothing. I kept walking for a few more seconds, deciding to dismiss the footsteps.  
   
A hand reaches out and grabs my shoulder harshly, pulling me hard into the space between a drug store and an apartment complex close to my house. I get pushed into a wall, the man tall and dangerous. His eyes are dark behind his sunglasses, his brown suit making him look like an old-fashioned business man.  
   
Fear tugs at me, the man holding me harshly against the wall and caging me in. His face was set in an impassive blank look, his breathing slow and steady as if he did this every night.  
   
“You should die, it’s all your fault,” the man’s mouth contorts into a snarl, yellow teeth glinting in the light coming in through the cracks in the tall wall behind me.  
   
My eyes widen, the man’s fist pulling back before hitting me directly in the chest. My breath leaves my body, the pain making me double over right into the man’s knee. The impact made my head snap back, blood flowing from my mouth in thick ropes. The man let go of my other shoulder and I fell to the floor shuddering.  
   
“Everything that goes wrong is your fault!” Every word was punctuated by a heavy kick to the ribs, pain exploding in my body. “You’re a useless piece of shit, you’re all alone and it’s all your fault!”  
   
The man kicked my legs, the action making a small scream escape my body from the feeling of something snapping out of place.  
   
“You’re just a slut, a disgusting slut; a monster,” the man leaned down and whispered this in my ear before walking away from the small alley. I stayed on the floor for a long time, contemplating whether I should just stay out here and wait for death to claim me.  
   
I got up when the sky was turning a beautiful shade of pink. I got up, wincing at the pain spreading through my body and leaned heavily on the wall. I limped out of the alley and looked both ways, the only things sin the area being the cars driving through and Cheshire grinning beside me. I started walking, my eyes darting from side to side frantically, the gnawing feeling in my chest that the man was coming back to finish what he started making me feel anxious. The voices constantly whispering in my ear that he was going to come back and kill me painfully not making me feel any less nauseated.  
   
‘Look at that, isn’t that him?’ I turned around so hard that my neck cracked, the man walking beside me and smirking before slipping into a car and driving away.  
   
I jogged the remaining way to my home, the feeling of disquiet incessant. I ran to the bathroom and closed the door behind me quickly not really needing my sister’s questioning at my appearance. I looked up at the mirror hesitantly and gaped at my appearance. The pain seemed to numb immediately as I looked at myself, no bruises marred my face and there was no blood on my nose despite knowing that earlier when I swiped at my nose with my hand, it came with blood.  
   
My heartbeat quickened as I frantically took off my shirt and observed my chest and arms. The only marking is the cuts in my forearms, any other place where I previously felt pain was completely normal, not a bruise in sight.  
   
“No…no, no, no, I couldn’t have imagined all of that, that’s-that’s crazy!” I turned to look at Cheshire, her silhouette not moving or reacting at all at my question. Her countenance remained the same as always, a huge grin and twinkling ruby chatoyant eyes.  
   
I turned back to looking at the mirror, annoyed with all of this. How is it even remotely possible that I imagined a beating and felt all the pain as if I was actually getting a beating? Was that man even real? Did I just make up everything? What’s to say that all the other interactions I had today (if any) were real? How do I know?  
   
I had a panic attack in the bathroom after that. Today I spent all day wondering if everything I heard and saw was real, if all the people I talked to were real. I find myself constantly observing places to see if I can spot any form of glitch in my reality. How do I know that everything I’m seeing is real and not just another realistic fraction of my imagination?  
   
   
A few days passed and the man kept appearing, sometimes just walking and leering at me, other times bumping into me and making me fall. Yesterday I fell in school, all the students around me laughing and pointing at the failure that is me as I scrambled to get up and away from the mocking laughter.  
   
Matt attempted to approach me today, I ran away. I don’t need them to come and tell me how much I hurt Jamie, or how much I hurt our friendship by being an useless piece of shit. I know already.  
   
Underneath the water of the shower I’m completing my daily ritual. I carved the word ‘Useless’ atop the other one, this time I didn’t pass out. I’m laying down in my bed, the sheets hunched up under my chin comfortably.  
   
“Sweetie, she’s better off without you, you were only annoying her and taking her time,” Cheshire’s soft voice murmured from beside me. I hummed at her, understanding where she’s coming from and knowing she’s right.  
   
“I-I know, Cheshire…I just miss her.”  
   
“You have me, sweetie, you’re still a burden to me, but, at least you’re not bothering them, they don’t deserve that.”  
   
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” a few tears escaped my eyes as I closed them. It’s early, but I’m still extremely tired. Nowadays I’m always tired and lethargic, the bags under my eyes have become so dark that my eyes look sunken in. The usual paleness of my skin now looks slightly translucent. I’ve caught dad throwing me worried glances constantly, me returning them with a smile of my own trying to appease his worrying.  
   
Dad doesn’t need to uselessly worry about me when I’m handling it, I’ll be fine.  
   
“Yes, sweetie, you’re perfectly fine,” I felt movement from besides me and smiled as Cheshire’s hand made contact with my hair, the movement comfortable and relaxing in a way.  
   
A shrill noise startled me out of my haze and I looked to the side at my phone. The screen said ‘Mom’, me sighing deeply before turning around and grabbing it, ignoring Cheshire’s angry huff and feeling anxiety because of it.  
   
“Hello?”  
   
“Hey! Nixon, how’ve you been?”  
   
Horrible and I want to die.  
   
“Great, mom, everything’s great,” I stared the wall blankly for a while as mom talked to me, generic answers falling from my mouth thoughtlessly.  
   
“I’m moving from New York, Nix,” this startled me some, my eyes widening a little but otherwise not able to show any other emotion or reaction, my body feeling farther and farther away the more I kept my eyes open.  
   
“Really? To where?” My voice came out empty and dry, not really sure how I make myself sound happy or anything anymore.  
   
“To LA, I got this really good offer from a really big company and I already went to the interview and everything, I’m starting in two weeks,” mom sounded so exited. Makes sense considering that she’s been dreaming of moving to LA since I can remember.  
   
“That’s great, mom, I’m happy for you,” I tried to sound more exited for her, but acquiesced to the fact that I’m basically just feeling too numb today to function properly, it’s happened before.  
   
“Doesn’t really sound like it, something wrong?” Cheshire glared at me from where she sat, and I gulped down any answer I was about to give before going for the overused answer of the year.  
   
“Yeah, mom, I’m fine…just tired,” mom hummed thoughtfully from the other side at my answer, probably deciding to ignore whatever else she was going to say before going back to gushing about her new apartment and about how she’d try to make dad let us go in the Summer.  
   
I felt nothing again, but I tried to fake it, managing a weak laugh when she finally said goodbye before I put the phone on my nightstand and I plopped down on my bed again. The ceiling has fine cracks on the sides, I had never noticed it before, but the other day I was looking and realized that the paint already needs to be fixed. The room will probably start leaking soon if we don’t fix that, but that requires work and effort that I don’t have the energy to give.

I forgot that Matt had said they wanted to choose a more gender-neutral name, we never really got around to deciding one. The memory still made me chest ache, the probably think I’m an attention whore, leaving the paper like that in the open while we were talking about something serious that dealt with Matt and them being comfortable. I’m basically the stupidest person in existence.  
   
My thoughts drifted, and before I knew it my mind was as numb as my body. Everything felt as if it were above water and I were underneath trying to make sense of whatever’s happening out in the distant surface.  
   
A loud noise brought me back, rhythmic and disturbing. I blinked and my eyes felt dry, having to blink them a few more times before I could actually move them without feeling pain. The noise came again, my mind now registering it a someone pounding on my door.  
   
“Nix! Get up, you’re going to be late for school, your alarm clock rang about fifteen minutes ago!” The pounding came back louder, a headache settling in my head with a vengeance.  
   
“Yeah! Um…give me a second!” I got up into a sitting position on my bed and rubbed my eyes tiredly, was I really just like that staring at the wall for the whole night? Did I fall asleep or was I zoned out? I don’t know, I don’t remember.  
   
I exit my room and enter the bathroom, showering quickly and putting on a grey sweatshirt and some black jeans that make my ass look good, at least, they did, now they just look weird and my body looks disgusting in them but they’re the only clean pair I have and as long as I don’t look at the mirror anymore today, I’ll hopefully be fine.  
   
I sigh again and try to mentally prepare myself, the Florida Summer heat is basically here already, and I can’t wear short sleeves, people will be suspicious. I’ll have to come up with some good excuses for everyone.  
   
I exit the bathroom and go to the kitchen. Dad smiles at me before doing a doubletake and gaping.  
   
“Did you sleep at all last night?” Dad’s blue eyes are wide open and his mouth is agape. I blush a little, I didn’t know I looked that horrible and ugly...  
   
Dad shakes his head worriedly at me and hands me a sandwich.  
   
“Come on, I’ll drive you to school today,” I nod and follow him. For a second, I wonder why Kate isn’t here before remembering that she left to stay at her friend’s house. Lucky people having friends.  
   
Once I get in the car and dad looks at me, I realized I fucked up. I gulped audibly as dad started the car and pulled out of the garage. Now it’s just a matter of time until the questionnaire begins.  
   
Three seconds later, dad opens his mouth.  
   
“So…what’s up with you and Jamie?” Fuck my life. Okay, how does one explain this? Some voices in my head made me break up with her because they made me realize how detrimental I was to her whole existence? Is that an acceptable answer?  
   
‘No, the fuck, you shit?’  
   
Sarcasm, great idea. How do I do that?  
   
“Uh…we – um…we broke up?” I winced slightly from the cringe. What happened to the aforementioned plan about spewing back with sarcasm until dad found himself beleaguered? I basically just fucked up the whole battle plan for Dad War I.  
   
‘If you weren’t so fucking stupid, maybe a plan would’ve worked.’  
   
‘You wouldn’t know what the fuck to do even with a map in front of you.’  
   
“I have fucking Google Maps with a voice directing me and telling me when I fucked up, shut up,” I rolled my eyes, annoyed at the voice that thought it was a good day to fuck with me, not today, motherfuckers, not today.  
   
“What?” my head snapped up alarmed at the sudden intrusion of the conversation. I looked up at dad like a deer caught in the headlights, did I really say that out loud? Am I really that fucked up?  
   
‘It would appear so.’  
   
‘Shut up.’  
   
“Um…thinking out loud?” I offered my dad a shaky smile, my heart pounding dangerously fast in my chest.  
   
“Okay…back on track, why the fuck did you two break up?” Dad turned back to stare at the road, gesturing with his hand towards me, “Did you cheat on her? Did you fuck up? Was it you?” Dad kept talking and I could feel the waves of guilt crashing into my body (the shore). Jamie didn’t deserve to be with a piece of shit as useless as me, why can’t nobody see that? I don’t deserve her, she’s too good for me.  
   
“Sweetie, if you stayed with her, you’d be fucking her up with your problems, she doesn’t deserve you fucking her up like that,” that’s so true, I was always pestering her with my problems. She didn’t need to deal with the fact that I’d been fucking raped as a kid, that’s not important; I’m not important.  
   
“Nix? Answer me,” I broke out of my stupor, my eyes focusing again. What does he want me to say? I don’t deserve her, so we broke up? What the fuck does he want me to say?  
   
“What the fuck do you want me to say, dad? Hm? The fuck do you want me to say?” I threw my hands up in exasperation, why do parents find the need to inquire excessively about every matter in my life? If I don’t want to tell you, fuck off, you can’t live vicariously through me.  
   
“Just want to know if it was your fault so I can whoop yo’ ass, that girl was way too nice for you to be hurting her like that,” dad looked at me and glared, my eyes widening in exasperation. Anger bubbled up inside me like a deadly poison, words filling up my brain and fighting to explode, disorganized and frenzied.  
   
“Dad – she’s not – I’m not! – I don’t – I-I – Deserve – stop asking me! – I – just – leave me alone, okay?!” My eyes were wide, my breathing fast as I tried to calm down, all the anger inside me now converted into panic. Why does he need to pry so much? I don’t pry on his life like this whenever he breaks up with a girlfriend, why does he need to question me? Am I a prisoner here? Is this what it is? It’s all my fault, I don’t need him or anyone else reminding me, I know it is. I know I’m worthless, I know I’m useless. I carved it in my body to fucking remember it forever; never forget it because I don’t deserve to, I should always know how worthless I am.  
   
“Nix…” I looked up again at my dad, my eyes full of unshed tears as I tried to formulate a sentence but all I can make are stutters and broken sentences, I’m a mess.  
   
Dad parks at the school and crosses his arms, his eyes scanning my fatigued body. Why is he looking at me?  
   
“Nixon, calm down, I’m sorry, okay? She was just a nice girl, I wanted to make sure she’s not that hurt,” dad nodded his head as if what he just said made sense when it didn’t.  
   
“Oh, because I’m not? I’m not hurt because of the fact that I was the one that broke up with her? Right? I can’t be hurt that I’m too fucking useless and worthless, that I’m too much of a failure to deserve someone as good as her. I forgot I was supposed to always be happy and understanding, my bad,” I breathed heavily and threw the door open, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut behind me. I jogged up to the school, putting my head down and walking down the hallway quickly.  
   
‘I fucked up so bad,’ I bit my lip hard, the taste of blood filling up my mouth as I kept walking up the stairs to reach my locker.  
   
“You just can’t do anything right, can you, sweetie?” Cheshire’s enraged voice filled my head, making everything else fade out for a second. I stumbled a little before I kept walking, my locker coming into view. I enter my combination and open it, leaning up against the door slightly and closing my eyes.  
   
Why did I say that? He’s going to know, and it’ll be my fault. He’ll suspect about Cheshire and he’ll know. They’ll lock me up and never let me out, this isn’t normal, I’m not normal; I’m crazy.  
   
“If you weren’t so fucking useless, I might feel pity for you,” Cheshire whispered this, somehow her voice still understandable even with the racket in the hall.  
   
I try to ignore her and the rest, taking a step backwards and pulling out a book and my folder with all the papers; waste of trees, they should just get rid of paper everything and have everything electronic.  
   
“You’re a waste of oxygen sweetie, and nobody gets rid of you.”  
   
Fuck, today’s not going to be a good day.  
   
Funny thing I used to think cursing made someone sound unprofessional, nowadays I don’t give a single flying fuck, I just want to die and nobody will care if I was professional and had good vocabulary before I died. I’ll just sound “cafre” like my dad always calls himself (Puerto Rican father coming out with them Spanish roasts towards himself like a pro).  
   
While shoving a notebook inside my bookbag, some papers fell out and I let out an exasperated groan. Did I really need to give the voices more ammunition with which to roast me? Give me a break.  
   
“Fuck my ass,” it came out of my mouth as a mutter before I could think otherwise. Tumblr is ruining me, but this is such an accurate moment. I stare at the papers on the floor for another few seconds before I felt someone grab my waist and get way too close.  
   
“You offering?” For a second I was totally baffled, before I realized and glared at the person beside me. Ugh, it’s that stupid senior dude that’s always trailing behind freshmen. He’s the type of bisexual that give us normal bisexuals a bad name.  
   
“Not to you,” I crouch down – not bend, that’d be stupid – and grab the papers that fell to the ground before I shoved them in my bag and got up again. I slammed the locker shut, all the while pointedly ignoring the white fuckboy beside me  
   
I move forwards, intent on walking before fuckboy Johnson grabs my upper arm and slams me on the lockers.  
   
“Fuck!” I double over slightly as the lock digs into the middle of my back, that’s a nice bruise I won’t be able to get rid of in a while. Who the hell does this asshole think he is?  
   
“Listen here, you little shit,” fuckboy Johnson – I forgot his first name – pushed me straight against the lockers and got in front of me, “you think you’re such a smart ass with all that sass, let’s see what you have to say when I’m balls deep in your ass -,” suddenly he was cut off by a book landing heavily on his head. My back was still pressed against the lockers as I saw Matt pushing fuckboy Johnson in the chest and screaming something at him as he ran away laughing darkly. My eyes still widened, I looked at Matt as they neared me, their eyes filled with concern that I don’t deserve.  
   
‘You just should’ve let him fuck you, you’re just a whore anyways.’  
   
‘You could at least do something useful for someone and spread your legs.’  
   
My back was still pressed to the lockers, my whole body tensed as I looked at Matt. They got closer to me and grabbed my arm, the hot flash of pain that ran through my whole arm making me whimper and bring me back into reality.  
   
Matt didn’t seem to notice and dragged me away from my locker, me barely managing to pick up my bag where it had fallen to the floor before I was dragged off roughly by Matt.  
   
We enter out classroom and sit on our seats right beside each other for this class, Matt looking at me and opening their mouth to talk right before the teacher comes in and starts the lesson.  
   
I had never been so thankful for a teacher to walk in and start the lesson but, bless this teacher with whatever god wants to bless her for torturing us.  
   
When class is over a few minutes later, I attempt to run away. Attempt. Matt grabs my arm (again, it hurts, stop) and drags me away into Free Period both of us have today. No, neither of us know why we have a Free period at the second period, it’s basically useless.  
   
Matt still hasn’t said anything to me and I rip my arm away from their grip, discretely checking to see if any of the cuts are bleeding through the shirt because that grip is fucking hard and it hurts.  
   
We walk over to the library, me wondering if I could somehow gain luck and outrun this long legged track-n-field champion…yeah, nope, not gonna happen.  
   
“They’re probably only dragging you away to tell you to never bother them again, sweetie, you never mattered to them.”  
   
‘You do know they don’t care about you, right? Nobody here cares about you.’  
   
‘All of the people in the world hate you, everyone hates you, you’re that annoying.’  
   
Before I realize, we’re at the library, Matt leading us to a table in the back and sitting down to stare at me expectantly. I sit down carefully, Cheshire’s lackeys not failing to remind me for a second that they’re only here to tell me to leave them alone and to stop looking at them longingly like I’ve caught myself doing. Jealousy is a senseless feeling, you know you don’t deserve it, but you still want it. Matt was my friend before they were Jamie’s, but they deserve to be Jamie’s friend instead of mine. I’m broken out of my little monologue by Matt’s voice.  
   
“Nix, I…I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you these past weeks, I know you’re not okay, and I know you broke up with Jamie and hurt her…but you don’t look remotely okay, you look so…distant,” Matt stared at me through their lashes, a sad – no, pitying – look on their face. I don’t want pity, I don’t deserve pity, or concern or anything like that.  
   
“Your point?” My eyebrows raised and my tone came out clipped before I could think better about my actions. Matt’s own eyes widened before they stared at me blankly for a second.  
   
“I was concerned, you looked sad all the time, you look like when you first arrived here a few years ago, sad and lonely,” Matt’s tone came out slow, as if they were talking to a toddler, my anger spiked suddenly and I felt annoyed. Who do they think they are, talking at me as if I had any difficulty understanding? I’m sure that even if I did have difficulties, I’d still feel annoyed by that tone.  
   
“Yeah, sure, pity me all you want, Ivanov, but I’m fine,” I glared at them, annoyance clear in my tone. What, do they get off on coming here after weeks and asking me if I’m okay?! They should stop pretending they care.  
   
“Dude, the fuck is your problem? You look dead and I’m concerned, sorry for trying to be a friend,” they glared at me, a scowl forming on their face. I poked the back of my teeth with my tongue, trying to silence myself and not say something hurtful. It didn’t work.  
   
“You know what? You’re a real hypocrite, you thing that coming here after three weeks of plain-out ignoring me and avoiding me I’ll come crawling to you and cry about all my feelings?” Matt’s own wide eyes widened and they started shaking their head slowly.  
   
“Nix, that’s not -,”  
   
“No, you know what? I get that you look at me and feel pity or something, I’m pretty sure you go all like: “Oh, the poor kid that got ass fucked when he was nine, what a tragedy,” but you know what? I don’t need your fucking pity, Matt, so why don’t you take your so-called “concern” and shove it up your ass,” with that I stoop up and stormed out of the library, glaring back when the stupid librarian thought it was a good idea to shush me. Motherfucker ‘bout to get some books up her ass if she think it’s a good idea to shush me, fuck her.  
   
I walk out into the hallway and run to the bathroom, the only place where people don’t question why you’re there unless they want an “I’m shitting, the hell you think I’m doing?” thrown to their face.  
   
I close the toilet seat and sit on it, not thinking about any germs my poor clothes may be contracting by sitting here. Who knows how many freshmen fuckboy Johnson fucked in this very stall. The thought makes me shudder, his words from earlier reminding me way too much of Uncle Hector whenever he thought it a good idea to remind me of how tight I was.  
   
I quickly dismiss the thoughts, the mere idea of having to deal with a panic attack on top of this shitty cake not appealing to me. I bend over slightly and put my head on my arms, the thought of having to deal with anything right now making me want to throw up.  
   
Today I got questioned by my dad, harassed in the hallway, angered by my old friend.  
   
I’m so stupid, all I’ve wanted since Jamie and I broke up was for Matt to talk to me again and be my friend, but I had to go and fuck it up by insulting them. I’m honestly the biggest failure that exists in the world right now. I just contradicted everything I wished for with a single insult. If Matt had any doubt about hating me, now they’re probably completely sure of themselves.  
   
“Remember, sweetie, they never liked you anyway, at most, you were their charity case,” Cheshire’s body appeared beside me, her silhouette filling the whole cubicle with a red hue.  
   
‘I know, Cheshire, they were still my friend for over four years of my life, that’s technically a long time.’  
   
“I’ll be you friend, sweetie, remember, just be a good boy and I’ll always be your friend, you won’t need to be alone.”  
   
I leaned my head on the wall of the cubicle and looked up at her, her figure is sometimes really tall and sometimes she’s small; it just varies.  
   
The next thing I know, the bell is ringing, the loud chatter of students outside the bathroom making me feel annoyed. Can’t someone go an hour without the need to pee? I exit the stall and wash my hands, the mere thought of exiting the bathroom (even though I just sat there) without washing my hands making me feel disgusted.  
   
The door opens and I just ignore it, drying my hands on the paper. When I wet to turn around, strong hands landed on my hips and pushed me roughly against the sink. My eyes snapped forward to the mirror and I saw fuckboy Johnson behind me, his brown eyes looking directly at mine in the mirror. When I finally noticed that I hadn’t reacted at all like I normally wood, it was too late to push him off or something, then he’d probably think I was a tease.  
   
Fuckboy Johnson grind his hips against my backside, in other words, his dick was digging against my ass and it’s very uncomfortable.  
   
He smirked at me as I glared at him, our gazes locking for a few seconds in the mirror before he turned away and kissed my ear with his lips.  
   
“There’s a party this afternoon with some of my out-of-school friends, wanna come?”  
   
“Not in a million years,” my clipped tone must’ve annoyed Johnson. He tightened his hold on my hips and snapped his hips forward, the force rocking me hard into the sink. My hip bones digging painfully into the countertop. My head started pounding in my chest, memories coming back as flashbacks.  
   
Hands on my hips, Uncle Hector’s dick rubbing against my ass cheeks, his mouth whispering dirty things into my ear.  
   
“Come on, baby, it’ll be fun. I’ll show you the night of your life,” he started sucking on my neck and tears sprung to my eyes, this can’t be happening. I’m not about to get raped in a school bathroom, or anywhere. I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime, it’s enough.  
   
“Get off,” my voice sounded weak even to my own ears, as Johnson kept grinding on me, his breathing heavier and heavier in my ears. Why the hell is he doing this?!  
   
“Why, baby? You know you like this. You’re so pretty,” my hands were gripping roughly into the sink as more and more flashbacks came back, “yes, that’s it baby, look at me, look at me with those pretty eyes of yours – fuck!” he slowed his movements and I hope to everything that he hadn’t come in his pants because that would be embarrassing for both of us.  
   
His hand moved to my fly and I snapped out of whatever frozen terror I’d been in.  
   
“Get the fuck off me you asshole!” I wrestled a bit with him, managing to turn around and push at his chest. The pole in front of me barely moved, but I managed to escape his hold and start running away. Before I could get far though, he grabbed my lower arm and squeezed, hard. All I could feel was pain, flooding all of my senses as he squeezed even harder. I heard his laugh, and when he turned around I could see the mocking smile on his face.  
   
“You thought I wouldn’t notice, Nixon? Who the fuck wears long sleeves when it’s almost Summer? It’s basically May for fuck’s sake,” I tried to pull my hand away from him, only managing to make him squeeze my arm even harder and laugh, “you must really have no friends when nobody notices.”  
   
I whimpered when Johnson grabbed my sleeve and I tried to pull my arm back, him pushing me back harshly into the countertop. He pushed my sleeve down and I saw his eyed widening at the sight of all the cuts before he took his phone out. I struggled against his hold, his hand on mine like an iron grip. I heard the noise of a picture snapping and looked up alarmed, right into the flash. Johnson pocketed his phone and roughly grabbed my chin.  
   
By now, tears are running down my face pathetically, his mocking smirk making me feel powerless.  
   
“You’ll come to my party today, and we’re going to fuck…or you know, that picture gets uploaded into the school’s website,” my body is trembling with terror, his face so close to mine I could feel his minty breath whenever he so much as opened his mouth. This is illegal, he can go to jail for this. Right?  
   
“Sweetie, nobody will fucking care, it’s not the first time you’d spread your legs,” Cheshire grinned from beside Johnson, her face making me cringe backwards, I probably would’ve fallen if Johnson didn’t have an iron grip on my hip and another one on my chin.  
   
“You’re going to be a good boy and come with me, you’ll see, I’ll get that tiny tight hole of yours all stretched out on my big cock,” I felt my face blush in embarrassment at his words, hopelessness curling in my gut as more and more images from my uncle came into my ming.  
   
“Yes, baby, that’s a good boy, suck my cock, yeah,”  
   
“Nix, you’re such a good boy for me,”  
   
“Here, let’s stretch you out so you can take my cock like a good boy.”  
   
   
   
“Get off,” I heard the sound before I felt the sting. The hand that was previously held to my chin was now raised beside me, an angered look in Johnson’s face.  
   
“You do not tell me what the fuck to do, you got that clear?” I cower back, any strength I might have gained in this last years forgotten and suddenly I’m a little nine year old kid cowering before his perverted uncle.  
   
“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do whatever y-you want, I’m sorry, please let me go, please,” a sob leaves my body as I look upwards, wishing that the roof would somehow cave in and kill me.  
   
“Good boy, I’ll come ‘round to your house to pick – no, you know what? You’ll leave with me and go to my place, forget the party,” I look wide eyed at him, his smile that would’ve been charming in any other occasion making me feel weak, and not in a good way.  
   
I nodded slowly, resigned. Johnson slapped my ass and walked around me to exit the bathroom, once the door closed down behind me, I broke down. He knows, he’s going to tell everybody if I don’t fuck him. What happens if I don’t even get hard? What if I fuck it up and he tells everybody? That’ll be basically social suicide. I need to do this, everyone will hate me after this anyways, he’s probably going to flaunt about it to all his fuckboy friends, that’s what he does.  
   
I push the stall door open and go inside, sitting down on the same spot as earlies and just weeping. Why does this need to happen to me? Is it because I’m already a whore?  
   
“Sweetie, everyone hates you anyways, at least you appeal to someone in someway,” true.  
   
My thoughts wander, my tears drying to my face in time until I space out. It’s all blank and numb, just like I like it. Everything white and comfortable, not a disturbance in sight.  
 


	11. Isn't there a limit to that "acceptance" pill?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> \- Rape  
> \- Blackmail  
> \- Self harm  
> \- Hallucinations  
> -Graphic descriptions of anal sex, blow jobs, and water enemas  
> \- Be very careful with this chapter, please  
> \- psychotic episodes

The final bell suddenly rang and broke me out of my stupor, panic filling my mind immediately filling itself with panic.   
   
“Go be a whore, sweetie, it’s what you’re meant to be anyways,” I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. She’s right, I can deal with this on my own, it’ll be fine. It’s just one time, and it wouldn’t be my first.  
   
I’ve always been meant to whore myself out for my freedom, it’s always been this way.  
   
I slowly walk out of the bathroom and sigh when nobody around seems to pay attention to me. Everyone just obliviously walking about with their friends without sparing me a second glance, just like it’s always been and it forever will be (just the way I like it).  
   
Someone laughs loudly from somewhere to the side and I see Matt standing there, their tall figure leaned against the lockers while someone laughs with them and leans it slightly, both their faces blushing. At least when I’m gone, they won’t be alone.  
   
“Go on, sweetie, don’t want to keep Johnson waiting.”  
   
With my eyes watering, and pursing my lips, I turn around again and start walking towards the exit. I’m about to fuck Johnson so he doesn’t tell the whole school I slice my skin open to feel better and shut the voices in my head. At least he doesn’t know about the voices in my head. Unless…does he? Does he know? Is he even real?!  
   
I shake my head slightly and exit the school building, my eyes automatically squinting from the bright sun attacking me right now. I look around the parking lot and spot Johnson’s car, a fancy ass Audi R8 that looks way too good for him. I walk over and any slice of hope inside my chest deflated just like balloons when impaled. There he was, in all of his fuckboy glory, sitting on the front seat of his fancy car.   
   
Once he spotted me, his smirk made me remember Cheshire, her chuckle breaking through the silence in my mind and making me deflate even more. Why couldn’t have he spontaneously combusted while the school ended? Johnson tilted his head to the side with a frown and I got the message immediately: Get in the fucking car, you’re not getting out of this. Or something along those lines.  
   
I walk over to the passenger side and open the door, sliding in quickly and shutting the door closed behind me. I stay looking forwards as fuckboy Johnson pulls out of the parking lot, smirking broadly.  
   
A while later, when I was finally managing to calm myself slightly with the help of Cheshire, by drilling into my brain that this is what I’m meant to do anyways.  
   
“What you want doesn’t matter, sweetie, just make him happy and nobody will know,” she’s right, all I have to do is please him. After this, I won’t have to deal with him again and that’ll be it, I’ll be done.  
   
My little bubble of conversation with Cheshire broke as I realized that Johnson had been talking and was now looking at me expectantly.  
   
“Um…I -,” have no clue what you just said, that’s not a good way to talk to the person that’s going to be fucking you. A blush found itself into my cheeks and my hand unconsciously moved to my mouth, my fingers rubbing my bottom lip anxiously. Fuckboy Johnson snorted and raised a threatening teasing eyebrow at me.  
   
“Did you even listen to a word I said?” My eyes widened as I looked scared at him. Terror flooding into my body making me shiver as I thought about everything he’d do to me if I fucked up.  
   
“I-I’m s-sorry, I just-just – um…” I closed my eyes tightly and clenched my fist tightly, making sure that my nails dug into my palms. I need a sense of normality right about now.  
   
“Dude, it’s okay, you’re probably nervous as fuck,” I refrained myself from rolling my eyes and mumbling some derogatory term towards him that he’d completely deserve for being a prick.  
   
“Anyways, as I was saying before I realized you were ignoring the fuck out of me, you’re going to take a shower once we get to my house and then we’re going to clean you,” the way he said it, with a smirk on his face and hungry eyes turning to look at me as if I were the last chocolate chip cookie in the world. I’m many things but dumb is not one of them, I know what he means by “cleaning me”. Fuckboy Johnson’s referring to the tedious process of ensuring one does not get shit on their dick while anal fucking.   
   
‘You’ll probably enjoy it, you slut,’  
   
‘It’s going to be great for you, I imagine, you’ve always liked dicks haven’t you?’  
   
‘You took your uncle’s so well whenever you gave him a blow job, he’d come so hard,’  
   
“Sweetie, you’re useless for everything else, might as well do something to contribute into this world.”  
   
I sigh tiredly and lean back into the seat. Looking blankly forwards until we reach a fancy, white house with a lawn so green it looked like High School Musical’s golf course; that green.  
   
“We’re here, baby,” I took in a sharp breath as Johnson moved his hand close to my crotch and palmed lightly at my dick, his lips curling into another smirk before he pulled away and got out of the car.  
   
I tried to calm my erratic heartbeat and got out of the car slowly; already doing breathing exercises to make sure I don’t faint out here spontaneously, that’s bound to get the picture published.  
   
When we enter the house my breathing caught in my chest, the house is huge, a big spiral staircase to the right and a colossal TV to my left. He’s a jerk with money, great.  
   
I don’t get much more time analyzing the place with awe until Johnson’s hands are grasping roughly at my ass, the fact that I wasn’t expecting it making me jump high on the air. Johnson chuckles darkly from behind me as his hands move from my ass to my hips, his hips grinding roughly against my ass.  
   
A loud groan escaped him as he pounded even harder, my hands finding their way around my own front as disquiet blooms up inside me. My eyes are watered and my whole body is trembling, barely noticeable against the movement Johnson was causing me to have by rocking into my body.  
   
“God, baby, yes, yes, fuck! You’re so hot – yes – shit! Your ass is so hot, ugh,” I yelped as Johnson pushed me and I promptly fell to the floor, him barely wasting any time removing his pants and his shirt, and crawling on top of me. He was completely hard inside his boxers.   
   
My heart pounded heavily inside my chest as Johnson’s hands fumbled with my own fly. He can’t see them, he can’t see them – please stop. He didn’t.  
   
Johnson hooked his fingers into my waist band and started pulling my pants down. Terror shook me to my core as I locked my legs together and tried to protest.  
   
“P-please don’t – don’t so this, it’s – you can’t see it, please, I’ll do anything –,” the slap that came next was so harsh that my whole head was moved to the side. My eyes widened and I choked as the same hand that slapped me now wrapped tightly around my neck.  
   
“Don’t get confused, Nix, you do not tell me what the fuck to do, ever,” his tone sounded enraged, his voice low and threatening as his eyes glared so darkly into mine that I recoiled, “You have no power here, I tell you what to do, not the other way round, got it?” he ground out dangerously. Johnson grit his teeth and tightened his hold on my neck so tight that I choked. I nodded my head slightly, the pressure being lifted from my neck and making me choke as air fought viciously to enter my lungs.  
   
Coughs racked my body and tears fell down my face, my hand swiping my cheek quickly and wiping the tears away. I looked up slightly and immediately found Johnson’s emotionless eyes, my heart pounded wildly in my chest as I diverted my gaze down to my knees.  
   
“Nixon…baby, come here,” I tensed as Johnson wrapped his arms around my body and “hugged” me, “that was just to teach you what would happen if you disobey me, okay? I promise it’ll only happen if you disobey me,” my mind spasmed as soon as he said that. What does he mean by disobey him? What does he count as disobeying, does making a sound count? How do I know what’s acceptable and not, will he tell me? What?  
   
My breath hitched as Johnson lifted me off the floor, my reflexes making me put my legs around his waist lest I fall. I threw an incredulous glance at Johnson and he glared at me, my gaze lowering immediately and my hands moving up to wrap around his neck.  
   
The whimper that left me wasn’t my choice as Johnson moved his hands lower and placed them on my butt, his hands groping and kneading. He started walking up the stairs and down a hallways, whispering things he’d do to me once we started.  
   
My body started trembling as he put me down on a bed and let go of me. Either this or everyone will know. That thought didn’t help at all as I watched Johnson bent down and opened a drawer pulling down a weird syringe connected to a hose looking thing. My eyes widened as I stared at the…thing. When Johnson looked at me with his signature “bad boy” (crazy ass motherfucker) smirk, he truly looked like a madman.   
   
“Okay, since you didn’t want me to undress you, I’ll let you undress yourself,” I must’ve sat there gaping for longer than I thought, because next thing I know, he’s stomping towards me, “hurry the fuck up, are you stupid?!”  
   
I yelp as he grabs me by the arm and squeezes hard.   
   
‘You deserve this.’  
   
“You do, sweetie, you really do,” all the voices cackle, and I can see Johnson’s mouth moving, but none of his words reach me over the racket in my head, “remember, sweetie, this is what you were born to do, this is the only thing you can do.”  
   
“Are you even listening to me you little ass wipe?!” Johnson yanks my head upwards by pulling on my hair and breaks me out of my conversation.   
   
“I-I…I’m sorry, John-,” my head is roughly thrown to the side, the punch catching me off guard. My ears start ringing and the pain quickly spread up the side of my face. Everything is quiet for a few seconds, minutes, as I just sit there looking to the side; stunned.   
   
“You should learn how to obey and listen to me when I’m fucking talking! If you’d been listening at me at all, you’d know what I told you,” Johnson gripped my head roughly again and made me turn towards him, “this is your punishment for being stupid.”  
   
‘Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID, STUPID.’  
   
Johnson pushes me hard into the bed, my back hitting the mattress and bouncing slightly. Through the blurriness clouding my eyes because of the tears I could see him fumbling with his zipper, fumbling out of his pants and yanking off his boxers.   
   
I do my best to not look down at him, but my eyes move before I can will them not to. What I see makes tears run faster, he’s huge, that size is not normal. There’s no way I can fit that inside me, there’s no way.  
   
Johnson growls – actually growls, a deep and guttural sound – and climbs on top of me, my eyes widening when he keeps going past my face and stops when his dick is literally on my face.   
   
“You’ve done this before, you whore, don’t fuck it up.”  
   
My breathing picks up as I remember one of the times he made me give him a blow job in this exact position. Johnson leans back makes sure I can see his face as he glares at me.  
   
“This is what you get for being such a fuck up,” he takes his own – massive – dick in his hands and starts jerking off on top of me, hardening until its half hardened.  
   
“Open up,” I consider being defiant, but the thought flees my mind as I remember the last two times I’d unintentionally done that. Everyone will know.  
   
“If you weren’t such a fuck up you wouldn’t need to be dealing with this, sweetie,” tears streamed down the sides of my face as I opened my mouth and Johnson wasted no time in moving his dick into my mouth, a loud moan coming from him.  
   
The dick inside my mouth was so big that my jaw ached from how much I needed to part my lips. Pure hopelessness filled me in waves as Johnson thrust his dick inside my mouth steadily. I want him to stop.  
   
“Come on baby, suck,” I steeled myself and closed my eyes, sucking the dick in my mouth. I poke my tongue at the tip whenever he pulled out again, running my tongue down the bottom of his dick. Johnson’s thrusting started to get faster as loud moans fell from his mouth. I gagged when the tip of his dick hit the back of my mouth, a whimper escaping me when he pulled out again. Johnson’s hands curled in my hair and pulled my head up while harshly thrusting down. I choked when the sensation of his dick hitting the back of my throat didn’t stop there, he kept pushing down, making me have to swallow around him lest I choke. The oxygen flow was cut off in my body, the feeling of being asphyxiated making my body spasm in desperation.  
   
I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t breather, please stop. Spots danced in front of my eyes as he thrust in again, me having no other option but to swallow around him; my gag reflex making me have to concentrate on not throwing up. Make him stop, I’m going to die. Saliva dripped down the sides of my face as his dick stayed there, my lungs screaming and burning for a breath as he stayed there.  
   
Suddenly, Johnson roughly pulled out and I didn’t even get to breathe before he plunged back in. His movements became violent as he thrusted inside my mouth, his hands keeping my face in place. Loud moans fell from his lips as he fastened his pace even more. My throat felt as if it were getting ravaged – it is.   
   
By now, my head felt numb, the lack of air and resignation that “I’m going to die deep throating someone against my will” making me feel worthless. I don’t deserve that air anyways. Uncle Hector had never been this violent with this.  
   
“He should’ve, sweetie.”  
   
Tears still slipped out of my closed eyes as his dick kept thrusting inside my mouth, his movements losing their rhythm and becoming sloppy.   
   
“Yes, baby, yes – oh, fuck!” He pulled out and my body automatically tried to take in a breath, the plan proving unsuccessful as his cum shot out into my mouth making me choke again. The taste was disgusting, salty and bitter spilling in my mouth. I tried to open my mouth to spit it out, my chest tight from coughing so much and the need for oxygen before Johnson quickly threw one of his legs from over me and covered my mouth with his hand.  
   
“Swallow it, you bitch, you’re my little cum bucket for today,” his glare bore into me, his brown eyes full of so much lust that I felt as though I were a tiny roach under his foot waiting for the blow to come. I basically am.  
   
I somehow manage to swallow the disgusting liquid in my mouth before I rip my mouth from under his hand and lean to the side. The sting in my throat making me realize how damaged my throat actually was. Bile rushes up my throat, but I manage to swallow it back, the thought of what he’s going do to me making me sob harshly.  
   
“Come on baby, that was fun, you can’t lie,” Johnson grabs my waist and pulls me up against his chest, the panic attack that I’d been trying to keep back coming in full blast. My vision swims as I open my eyes, my chest still heaving from not being able to breath and the absolute terror making me shiver.  
   
“Get undressed, now.”  
   
I look up into his brown eyes and see they’re still the same, lust filled and intense. They still hold a warning in there, the obvious threat.  
   
I move my legs to the edge of the bed and stand up, stumbling from the dizziness. I managed to steady myself and hooked my thumbs on the sides of my pants. He’s going to see everything…he’ll see what I truly am. He’s going to hate me, I don’t want that…do I? I don’t want to be hated.  
   
I yank off my pants and with trembling arms, I fold them up neatly. My front still facing away from Johnson, I still hear the moan he lets out when I bend down to pick up my boxers from the floor. I resist the urge to hide myself just like I did when I was younger and lift off my shirt, folding it as well and putting it on top of my jeans on the bed. My eyes seem to have given up on crying, my cut up arms moving upwards to swipe off the tears on my face. I turn around slowly and look blankly at Johnson, my emotions fleeing away, scared of getting hurt.  
   
Johnson frowns, his eyes raking up and down my body. His eyes lingered on the words carved into my thighs, his eyes widening when he saw the scabs and red skin that littered my arms and thighs.  
   
“Oh, baby…why are you doing this? You would be so pretty if you hadn’t done this, this is such a turn off,” his words sting, they sting so hard that they manage to reach my hiding emotions and bring sadness and despondency out to play. A sole tear falls down quickly my face and on the floor.  
   
“Aww, sweetie, don’t cry, you already knew you were disgusting anyways,” I sniff as Johnson shakes his head disappointedly and stands up. He’s disgusted with me, everyone is the same, everyone will be disgusted with me whenever they see me.  
   
Johnson picks up the previous syringe he’s put aside and jerks his head to the side, signaling towards a door in the side.  
   
When we enter, the first thing I see is a counter. Ok, this is a bathroom. I enter further and see the shower and toilet to the other side.  
   
“Bend over,” my eyes widen as Johnson signals towards the counted with the syringe…what is that? Is he shoving that up there? I still put my elbows on the counter and rest my head on my arms. I hope I die.  
   
Hands move to my butt cheeks and Johnson murmurs something under his breath, but I don’t get a second to dwell on it before he shoves the syringe top thing – what is that?! – in my ass and it burns. A small screech escapes my mouth as he leaves the thing in there. I want it out.  
   
“This is going to feel weird, but you’ll hold it inside until I tell you to,” something clicked and something fluid and cold started filling me.  
   
“Hold it!” I tense my muscles and try to hold the weird liquid inside me as my breathing intensifies. I haven’t eaten since a day and a half ago, why do I need to do this? A whimper falls out of my mouth at the sensation, it’s wrong.  
   
It feels like forever, me sitting in the toilet awkwardly before Johnson told me, “you can let go now,” I do and immediately regret it. The sound of the water splashing into the toilet making me want to cry, the smell, oh my god, no, please kill me.   
   
Johnson turns around and turns on the shower water,   
   
When everything is out, I flush the toilet and look down ashamed. That was disgusting, how do people do this consensually?  
   
I wipe everything and stand up, my whole chest and face flushed from embarrassment.   
   
“Come on, baby, let’s have fun,” Fuckboy Johnson looks at me and gestures to the shower; steam is rising from the water making the whole room look foggy. With my hands wrapped around myself, I walk forwards and step into the water, the scalding hot water not comforting at all in this situation.   
   
“Sweetie, everyone will be so disgusted by you if you don’t do this, they’ll hate you,” no…I don’t want them to hate me, I already hate me enough. I need to do this, I can’t let anyone find out.  
   
“You have such a nice ass, baby,” Johnson walks up behind me and grabs my ass, his hands moving roughly, gripping and pinching.  
   
Please stop, I don’t want to do this.  
   
Johnson grabbed something from the little rack in front of us and opens it, pouring a hefty amount of it in his hand. At least he’s not using water as lube, that’d be disastrous as hell. My little amusement-filled stupor was broken by Johnson roughly shoving two fingers in my ass.   
   
“Ow! Fuck, fuck, fuck, that hurts, get it out, stop, please-,” I tried to beg, but my throat stung so much that I had to cut off and cough. The fingers in my ass showed no intention of stopping, the rough ministrations making me cry out loudly, the sensation of burning ripping through my back.  
   
“Yes, baby, shit, you’re so tight, yeah,” Johnson moaned behind me and shoved his fingers in deeper, an electric-like sensation making me tense and my knees to buckle. A loud moan left me as Johnson moved his hand again at another angle and the sensation became stronger.  
   
“Yes, is that it, baby? Moan like that again, baby, that was so hot,” no, no, no, no. I don’t want to enjoy this, why is this happening?  
   
“See, sweetie? I told you you’re just a whore,” I whimpered again and Johnson kept thrusting his fingers in roughly, sometimes the sensation not being pleasurable and more borderline-painful.  
   
My dick was hard from the sensations, the sensation of having to come getting stronger and stronger. I locked my knees, willing my body to stay standing as my knees threatened to buckle.   
   
Johnson shoved his fingers in and stayed there, circling motions against my prostate making my hips thrust forward in an attempt to escape the assault. My breathing shallowed significantly, pleasure weakening my knees and making me almost fall – saved by Johnson’s other hand wrapping tightly around my waist. Moans fall from my lips without my consent (like everything else that’s happening right now) and tears start falling from my eyes again, getting lost in the pour of the water.  
   
“Yes, baby, that’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, yes, you’re so hot, fuck,” precum spurts from the head of my cock as I sob. I don’t want this, I don’t want this. Why am I aroused? I used to consider myself to be demisexual, turns out I’m just a whore with preferences.  
   
A white shock travels through my body and I moan loudly, my knees becoming jelly under me and Johnson falls to the shower floor with me, his moan breathy against my ear. We stay like that for a few minutes, my chest heaving and exhaustion pulling at me eyelids, threatening me and luring me with the promise of sleep; an escape.  
   
“Come on baby, my turn,” Johnson hauls me up and turns me around to face him, his hand reaches down and takes my dick, a whine escaping me at the jolt that runs through my body. Oversensitivity makes everything uncomfortable from then on, Johnson’s hand on my dick making me feel more as if I were being electrocuted and less as if I were aroused.  
   
“Wow, sweetie, didn’t think you were that much of a whore, seems like you exceeded expectations,” my knees buckle again, but before I can fall to the floor, Johnson pins me against the wall and hauls me up, leaving me with no more choice but to wrap my legs around him. My eyes are widened by the new position, his body pinning me against the wall, his hands gripping my thighs so hard that one of the newer cuts reopens and start bleeding.  
   
“Ugh, cutters are so messy in this department,” …what? Did he just – oh my god. My chest tightens at the look of utter disgust that crosses through Johnson’s face, “if you weren’t so hot and had such a nice ass, I wouldn’t even touch you with a ten foot pole.”  
   
My face scrunches up and my vision blurs, why does he need to say it? I know I’m disgusting, he doesn’t need to remind me.  
   
‘Even he thinks you’re disgusting, at least you have your body.’  
   
Shut up, please, not right now. Johnson moves one of his hands below me and wiggles a finger inside, the sensation no longer hurting, but still uncomfortable. Johnson’s dick is suddenly at my entrance, the tip teasingly prodding. Is it too much to ask that he dies right about now? Or me, can I die? I could -,  
   
A loud shriek escapes me, pain traveling through my body as Johnson shoves his whole dick inside me in one go, his balls slapping my ass cheeks. A ripping sensation burn through my body, pained cries falling from my lips as Johnson barely gives me any time to get used to the feeling and starts thrusting inside me at a violent pace.  
   
“Fuck, baby, yes – shit – you’re so fucking tight, fuck,” Johnson’s thrusts start gaining even more speed, moans falling from his lips loudly.  
   
“Slow do-,” A cough racks my body, unconsciously making me tighten my muscles around him.  
   
“Fuck! Yeah baby, do that again, yeah,” please stop, please stop, please stop…Another loud yelp escapes me as he thrusts directly into my prostate. I tense up again, pain and pleasure muddling my brain and turning it to shit.  
   
“Oh…”   
   
“Yeah, sweetie, you’re going to moan his name now like the whore you are?” That succeeded in making me shut up, my jaws clenching together tightly.   
   
My world tilts suddenly, Johnson ripping his dick roughly out of me and throwing me on the floor. I land on my front, my chin escaping smashing the floor by mere centimeters. I clench my eyes shut and try to numb myself as Johnson takes my hips roughly and shoves himself inside me again, slamming directly into my prostate.  
   
“Aaah!” Shut up, you whore. I can’t.  
   
Johnson slams directly into my prostate with every thrust, loud groans falling from his lips as he set a brutal pace. His dick slams continually into my prostate, the violent pace making my whole body rock back and forward on the floor and pained whines to leave me. My prostate is no longer sending pleasurable jolts into my body, it feels as if I were getting impaled repeatedly, and I am, but not like this.  
   
There’s something wrong, this isn’t supposed to feel like this; there’s something wrong.  
   
“J-Johnson, it hurts, please…there’s something wrong, please stop,” my voice is near hysterical, pain traveling through my whole body and making me light headed. Johnson’s still going and it hurts too much. I’m going to die.  
   
Johnson keeps thrusting into me, the pain becoming unmanageable. Shivers travel through my body, making even my mouth tremble as if I were cold.   
   
Johnson suddenly stops all movement, his cock digging into my prostate and making my flaccid member jolt slightly. He wraps my arm around my front and makes me sit on his lap, his hips pistoling upwards.  
   
“God, baby, you’re so tight, nghh…” He starts sucking on my neck before pulling away while simultaneously thrusting upwards and hitting my prostate head on again, a jolt of electricity and pain making me moan before his cum shoots inside me.  
   
My eyes widen at the sensation, he didn’t use a condom.  
   
“You’re a whore anyways, if you get a disease it’ll just make it more permanent,” no, no! Why didn’t he use a condom?!  
   
Johnson’s flaccid member slips out and I whimper, darks spots in front of my eyes making me lean back into his embrace. My head is spinning and I blink once…twice.  
   
   
The first thing I noticed was the warm bed under me, the next being the heavy and warm duver hugging me comfortably.  
   
Where the hell am I? Did I fall asleep?  
   
‘About time you woke up, you whore,”  
   
“Sweetie, you did great there, he came so hard; I’m so proud of you,” I jolt upwards when everything flies into my mind. At least, I try to, but as soon as I go to get up, my ass, back, thighs, legs, being, scream with pain.  
   
“Ow! What –,” I cough again, the movement making my body ache even more. My eyes start watering and I feel so pathetic, I’ve done nothing but cry today – it’s not as if I didn’t deserve it.  
   
“Babe?” I look up at Johnson’s voice and see him standing up at the end of the bed, already dressed and smiling at me as if that didn’t just happen, “you’re awake finally, you’ve been out for, like, two hours.”  
   
My eyes widening must’ve been amusing to his fucked up mind or something, but as soon as he looked at me he started laughing his ass off.  
   
“I-I’m sorry – oh my god – you just look-,” que another round of laughing, “-you look so fucked out right now,” I look what?   
   
Johnson suddenly smirks and starts walking towards me. My heart starts pounding as he comes towards me, his hand coming down and gripping my chin.  
   
“That was the best fuck of my life,” he crushes his lips into mine and shoves his tongue in my mouth. The sensation makes me wince, this is nothing like when Jamie and I used to make out, those kisses were good, consensual, and beautiful; this kiss is dirty, disgusting, and feels way too slimy.  
   
His tongue caresses mine and it takes everything inside me not to shiver in disgust. It’s done, I fucked him, why can’t he delete the picture and leave me the fuck alone?  
   
He pushes me down on the bed and starts opening his pants again. What is he doing? We already fucked, it was supposed to be one time.  
   
“Wha-What are you doing? Hey, stop” I cough loudly again, the burn in my throat still there, “stop, stop, Johnson, stop!” Johnson laughs and grabs my legs, tightening his grip to a bruising one when I try to kick him off me. It was supposed to be one time, what is he doing?! I start panicking and try to scream before he shoves a bunch of the duvet in my mouth.  
   
His dick slips inside me again, his thrusts deeper, but less violent than last time. I start crying again and cover my ears with my hands. Why can’t they shut up? It’s already bad enough, please.  
   
“Sweetie, you’re so fucking disgusting,”  
   
‘You’re worthless-,’  
   
‘Everyone will be disgusted by you -,’  
   
‘Matt will hate you, they’ll be disgusted-,’  
   
“Sweetie, Jamie is probably so disgusted by you,”  
   
She doesn’t know, she can’t. Nobody can.  
   
I shut my eyes tightly and try to escape, Johnson’s thrusts becoming sloppy until his cum shoots inside me. My whole body trembles, terror caging me inside its claws as static starts clouding my mind.  
   
I dimly notice Johnson buttoning his pants again before getting off me, throwing something at me. I register it to be clothes, and in my desperation I quickly snatch them and put them on as quick as I can (not very quickly). My vision seems to have become tunneled, the only thing I can notice is the fact that Johnson is in front of me and his mouth is moving. He’s saying something, but only small fragments are coming through.  
   
“…home…mom…car…nothing…okay?”  
   
I nod only because it seems like the only logical thing I can do at the moment. He grips my arm roughly and drags me away from the bedroom, jolts of pain traveling everywhere as I walk faster than I can. I limp heavily behind him, knowing that if I try to stop, he’ll just keep going and drag me.  
   
Down the stairs becomes a struggle, the staircase making a new wave of pained tears fall from my eyes. We pass a room and someone talks, but only static comes through to me.  
   
A rough push makes me come back slightly.  
   
“What?” I look up and see a tall woman looking at me with concern, her already present worry lines looking as deep as ever.  
   
“I asked if you were okay,” I look up at Johnson with wide eyes, and by his glare I can tell that I’ve fucked up already.  
   
“Yeah…” I swipe at my cheeks and smile “brightly” at the woman, her furrowed eyebrows softening a little as she grins back at me.  
   
“He’s got severe social anxiety so…sometimes that happens, anyways, I’m going to take him home now, I’ll be back in a little while,” before I can formulate an answer, I’m dragged off again, this time out the front door. Johnson shoves me inside the car and rounds it to the driver’s side, his jaw set and eyes glaring forwards.  
   
The car starts but I barely register it, my mind numbing as if I’d just taken anesthesia to the brain. My body is shaking heavily, but I have no idea whether it’s because I’m tired, cold, scared. My emotions aren’t passing through to me. The ride is a quiet one, Johnson knowing the road to my house from the one time my sister had the misfortune of having him as partner for a project. My house comes into view and I don’t say anything as his car stops and I get out.  
   
“See you again soon,” and then he’s off. What? He said it was one time…I still don’t cry, my mind too numb to do anything. I walk up to the front door and open it, the light inside blinding me momentarily. I see my dad’s face and I realize that I’m not getting to rest tonight.  
   
“Where the actual fuck have you been you little shit?” Dad is sitting on one of the stools next to the counter, his blue eyes glaring at me heatedly. He’s so mad.  
   
I look to the side and see Kate sitting down on the couch, her eyes boring into me. I’m still trembling and dad seems to notice because his gaze softens slightly.  
   
“Well?” What? Oh.  
   
“I-I was…um…I was at-,” I can’t say his house, my sister will know.  
   
“The…park,”  
   
“The park?” My dad does not look impressed.  
   
I nod quickly – too quickly – and lean against the wall, hoping that the room stops spinning sometime today, “Yeah…I was there and lost track of time while reading some fanfics…you know, yeah,” I bite my tongue and smile, sweat rolling down my face but I’m still trembling.  
   
“Fanfics? Never mind, do you honestly think that I’ll buy that?” Kate looks ready to fall to the floor laughing and dad looks ready to explode. I feel ready to burst out crying.  
   
“Yeah, because it’s the truth,” please leave it at that, I’m going to cry.  
   
“Don’t you dare tell him, sweetie,”  
   
I know.  
   
“Then, were you the whole day at the park reading these “fanfics”? Did you honestly think the school wouldn’t call me to tell me that my son is skipping class?” Oh fuck. My eyes water and I quickly look down, I don’t need him to worry about this right now, I deserve him screaming to me after what I did today.  
   
“I-I’m sorry,” I wince and cough as my throat reminds me again that yes, it’s damaged.  
   
“I don’t want your fucking apologies, I just want you to tell me why the hell you were skipping class today and thought it was acceptable to arrive home at ten in the afternoon without calling me,” a tear slides down my cheek and I curse mentally, why does this need to happen to me? Why couldn’t they have been sleeping?  
   
I sniffle, “I j-just-,”  
   
“Is it because of what I said this morning? If that’s it, that’s no excuse to fucking come home at this hour, even if you were mad at me.”  
   
I nod again, deciding that this is a safe route and a good excuse.   
   
“C-can I go to my room?” My voice cracked and something must have occurred to my dad because he inhaled loudly and cleared his throat.  
   
“Nixon…did something happen today?” I shook my head and clenched my eyes shut again. Why can’t he just let me go to my room?  
   
“Okay…well, go to your room and we’ll talk about this more tomorrow,” I nodded and walked – more like limped – over to the door that led to the hallway and went inside.  
   
“Is he limping?”  
   
I fasten my pace slightly and walk into my room, grab some clothes and run into the bathroom. My hands are trembling so hard that I couldn’t get undressed easily.   
   
He said he’d see me again soon. Is he planning on doing that again? I don’t want to do it again, I feel so disgusting.  
   
I get inside the shower water and wince at the cum that’s dried down my legs. The pain is so much that I fall on the floor. My breath quickens and suddenly I can’t breathe. I grip my legs tightly and dig my nails into one of the cuts, for once, the pain not helping me at all.  
   
Loud, ugly sobs are falling past my lips as I bend over try to get some of the dried cum off my hole, the memories of Johnson mixing with Uncle Hector’s and suddenly I’m there again. The mixtures of “good boy” and “baby” making me want to throw up in disgust. Why does this happen to me?! A sudden surge of energy overtakes me and I slam my hand into the floor repeatedly, trying to distract myself with pain, because I just want to forget.  
   
He’s going to do it again and again and he can get away with it because I don’t matter. I don’t matter.  
   
“That’s right sweetie, you don’t matter enough to be cared about,”  
   
‘You’re forgettable,’  
   
‘Look.’  
   
The razor. I sigh in relief and grip it tightly before digging it into my wrist, the flow of blood transfixing me.  
   
I don’t sleep that night, and the next day I walk to school numb. The only thought in my brain being “I hope Johnson doesn’t call me again.”  
   
   
He did.  
   
In the next fortnight he called me one more time, and then called me to him again the next month.  
   
It’s mid-May and I’m already giving up.  
 


	12. Born to fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> \- Rape  
> \- Self harm  
> \- Misgendering  
> \- Suicide attempt  
> \- Hate  
> \- Depression  
> \- Suicidal thoughts  
> \- Suicide idealization  
> \- Romanticizing of suicide  
> \- Careful with this chapter  
> \- Mental breakdowns

3:07pm  
Dennis Johnson: come over  
   
3:07pm  
Me: Ok  
   
I sigh and look down at my homework pile that I’m not going to do. Why do teachers always find the need to give even more homework while so close to finals? They want me dead more than I want me dead, especially Mr. MacPherson, I’m barely passing his class and it’s only because the things he gives are always in the classroom and there I can do something halfway.  
   
I get up and realize I’m already trembling, the last two times he’s called me have been the same as the first time. It always hurts and I always cry, but apparently that turns him on so it isn’t a problem for him.  
   
Last time he made me call him daddy and the mere thought of it makes me want to throw up. He threw more pictures of me, naked pictures of me getting fucked and of me laying unconscious, in all of them my face is visible.  
   
I’m desperate to escape this, but he’ll post the picture and Matt will see them and so will Jamie, I don’t want them to see that. I don’t want them to hate me more than they do.  
   
I quickly gather my things and walk out of the house, my plans to try and do homework while my dad is off at some Church party his coworker invited him to getting spattered under Johnson’s foot.  
   
I half run, half jog towards Johnson’s house, arriving there around half an hour later and out of breath. Having to wear long sleeves has its many cons when it’s May in Florida. Now that I think about it, I shouldn’t have ran here. Even if I got here earlier he’ll make it hurt for not being there immediately after he texted me, what does it matter if I walked instead of ran.  
   
‘Since you apparently like pain so much, none.’  
   
Right, he’ll probably rip my ass open if I’d gotten here later. I quickly walk over to the front door and knock, Johnson opening the door immediately after.  
   
Johnson grips my arm and pulls me inside, slamming the door behind him and dragging behind me towards the stairs and inside his room.  
   
“I’ve missed you so much baby,” he slams me against the door and kisses me roughly, hands undressing me already.  
   
   
   
+  
   
“Yes, baby, oh my god, your hole looks so good all stretched and gaping for me,” Johnson moans loudly and more tears fall down my face as he shoves another finger inside me. He’s made me come three times already, my dick feels as if it were about to fall off any moment and nothing feels good anymore. He still hasn’t fucked me and I know he will, he always does. I don’t want him to.  
   
Something starts humming behind me and I’m confused for a second before the noise gets closer and shoves the thing inside me, the vibrations making my whole body shudder and my already hurting dick gets harder again.  
   
“Oh, sweetie, you’re such a slut for things up your ass aren’t you?”  
   
“No,” I whimper when a sudden sting spreads through my ass and Johnson curses.   
   
The vibrator is still inside me, right against my prostate before he shoves a finger inside me along with the vibrator. The pain is so sharp that I actually scream.  
   
“Shut up you stupid idiot!” Johnson slaps my ass again and adds another finger. Sobs are falling from my mouth and I’m overwhelmed by everything. My hands are tied to the headboard and I’m on my hands on knees, crying, while doing something so my nonexistent friends don’t hate me.  
   
I let out another loud noise as Johnson slips another finger in, the vibrator, plus three fingers making everything feel way too stretched. It’s going to break and everything hurts, and I want to die and I want him to stop but he won’t.  
   
The pain is excruciating and a few minutes later, I’m sobbing, beads of sweat covering my body and something dripping from my asshole.   
   
“Fuck!” Johnson slaps my ass hard before shoving himself inside me along with the vibrator.  
   
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, STOP.  
   
The scream that rips out of me is shrill and pain-filled. There’s definitely blood running down my legs and he’s shoving himself in there.  
   
The sensation of needing to shit is stronger than any of the other times, the pain making it even worse. My muscles try to force it out and that only makes it worse, the damaged rim making whimper loudly and cry out. A loud moan leaves Johnson as my body contracts around his. Make it stop, please.  
   
“Please stop, it hurts, there’s something wrong, stop, please, please, please…” I keep begging, screams and yelps ripping themselves out of me as soon as Johnson starts his usual brutal pace, blood dripping down my thighs and into the bed. I sniffle loudly and whimper, the vibrator and his dick both hitting my prostate directly but neither bringing me pleasure. The feeling of getting stabbed making loud cries leave me.  
   
“Stop crying, you pathetic fuck,” Johnson slams harder inside me and growls when he comes, I scream again at the sensation and Johnson slaps my ass hard. He takes his bloodied dick out of me and pumps the vibrator inside me a few more times. Tears fall down my face in rivulets, both at the pain and at the situation, why can’t my life just be normal? My mind blanks again, the cooling sensation spreading through my body and mind like a comforting blanket. Some active part of my brain realizes that my hands are freed and that Johnson is now carrying me.  
   
I look up at him and only notice his frown, but his mouth moving indicates me that’s he’s talking but I can’t hear. Something starts falling on top of me, but I don’t realize that it’s water until I’ve been under it for a few minutes.  
   
The pain in my backside is the only thing that I register, everything else numbing, the world dead to me. My world tilts dangerously and when my eyes travel to the front, the only thing I see is Johnson’s widened eyes in front of me. Is he scared? Amusement curled quickly and disappeared inside me, the thought of dying here and him being arrested being hilarious.  
   
“-xon, Nixon!” I frown in distaste at Johnson, every emotion but fear blossoming in my chest. Who does this motherfucker thing he is?! Is he seriously worried about me after he fucks me and freaking rips my ass open?! Talk about being a major hypocrite.  
   
“What?” My snappy tone surprised him apparently, because his eyes widened.  
   
“You looked dead for a second, I don’t want you to die in my house,” I couldn’t help it, I laughed loudly at that. My eyes felt wide, everything looked brighter in a way. Shadows appeared on the sides of my vision, claws and flashing eyes looking amusing. Cheshire appeared fleetingly beside me and I smirked, her sharp grin looking as bright as ever.  
   
“I am dead,” I giggled at that. It’s true, we’re all dead inside, we just have emotions to mask it, why should I do what everyone does?  
   
“Sweetie, you’re an useless bitch, never forget it, okay?”  
   
“Yeah, Cheshire, I know,” I laughed louder at Johnson’s confused face. He fucked with the crazy bitch. The pain in my ass made it painful to get up, but when I did, adrenaline seemed to be pounding in my body. I dried off and went to the bedroom, putting on my underwear and my sweatpants, thankful they’re black and not grey. I put on my red sweatshirt and left the bedroom, shutting the door loudly behind me. Pure anger cursed through my veins, the burning fire making me feel as if I could breathe it.  
   
“Nixon, what the actual fuck?! Are you seriously that desperate to get those pictures leaked?” We’d reached the kitchen and the knife in the corner seemed to glint, the silver becoming just like the beautiful red that flows from the wounds. Before I know what I’m actually doing, I grab it and turn around towards Johnson, his face contorting in fear.  
   
“Are you going to leak them? Really? Are you?” I look at him and make sure to make my tone as dry as possible, all while dragging the sharp side of the knife lightly down my uncovered wrist.  
   
“Go ahead sweetie, go deeper,” I do. The tip prickling my skin makes everything feel even better, I’ll die here. In my trance watching the blood flow, I smile, Cheshire will be so proud. This’ll make everyone happier.  
   
“Go deeper, sweetie, go deeper,” tears fall down my face as I push the file harder against my wrist, this is it, I’ll end it here.  
   
A hand comes out of nowhere and grips tightly at the hand that’s holding the wrist, the pain enough to make me drop it and yelp.  
   
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you stupid bitch?!” I look up dazed at Johnson’s face. Why is he yelling?  
   
‘You stupid bitch, you should’ve hurried up!’  
   
I go to take the knife from the floor, but Johnson kicks it away from me and everything seems to crumble down around me. Why does he hate me so much?! Why does he only cause me pain?! Why can’t he just let me die? That’s the nicest thing he could do, after everything he’s done to me.  
   
A sob falls out of my mouth as I see the bloodied knife skid away from me.  
   
“You’re not killing yourself in my house,” I glare at Johnson and rip my hand away from his, walking over to the front door and walking out. Pain seemed to surge in every crevice of my body.  
   
The limp is holding me back, but the thought of going home and ending it all felt so alluring that I’m being compelled to walk and just ignore the pain, I’ve been through worse.  
   
“Oh, sweetie, who says you need to wait until you’re home?” I look over at the traffic and without any hesitation start to walk towards it. It’s so close. I walk even faster and get one, two, steps on the road. So close…  
   
“What the actual fuck?! Let me go!” I try to pull, but the person suddenly holding my arm is stronger than me, “Why can’t someone just fucking die in peace?! God damn it!” I turn around, ready to give the person holding me a piece of my mind and come face to face with Matt. Their eyes looking frightened, and their mouth set in a firm line.  
   
“What-what were you doing?”  
   
Are they dumb? I scoff and roll my eyes, “What did it fucking look like?”  
 

“W-why? What the fuck are you playing about, Farely?!” Matt screams at me and I can’t help but feel a deep pang of sadness ripping me from the inside. That doesn’t last long though, my mood changes and anger boils up inside me. What the hell do they think they’re doing?! Who are they to keep me from finally being happy?!  
   
“What? Now that you know I’m fucking crazy you’re worried?” Matt’s eyes widen and they look at me with guilt, before their eyes harden again.  
   
“Nixon, I always cared about you, I never stopped,”  
   
“Oh, yeah, sweet angel Matt coming back to the rescue,” I cross my arms and scoff, yeah right.  
   
“It’s Vix now, actually,” they cross their arms defensively as well and I smirk. Vix, huh?  
   
“Make them leave you alone, sweetie, he doesn’t care about you, he’s just being selfish and holding you back,” I smirk at Matt and watch amusedly as their eyes widened. Everything looks brighter still, the total euphoria making everything but amusement feel far away.  
   
“No,”  
   
“W-what?”  
   
“I’m not calling you Vix, you’re just a boy, you’re Matt, get that through your fucking thick skull,” the silence that immediately follows gives me enough time to feel a small pang of regret, this is for the best though, it’s better this way.  
   
“Fuck you, Nixon Farely, you know what,” they let their arms fall to the side and glare at me though their tears, “do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care.”  
   
They turn around and go, their back hunched and head low as they jogged away from me. Good, they’ll get over it sooner or later, and I won’t be around to see their disappointed face.  
   
I let my mind wander and keep walking to my house. Cheshire is walking right next to me, her red glow making all the cars around look more alluring. Now that I think about it though, I don’t want to jump into traffic, there’s a chance that I’ll survive it and I don’t want that to happen. Cars don’t run that fast through here, there’s no guarantee.  
   
“Sweetie, it’ll work, don’t worry, just jump,”  
   
I have a better idea, Cheshire.  
   
“Oh yeah, let’s see what “brilliant” idea it is you can some up with sweetie,” Cheshire’s mocking tone makes me frown. Am I really that useless that whatever I do will fail me? Probably.  
   
‘Yes.’  
   
I can feel dried blood on my thighs, the limp in my step probably making me look injured to anyone in a ten mile radius. A tear falls out of my eye and I quickly swipe it off, the attempt failing as more tears keep falling from my eyes in quick succession. Next thing I know, I’m sobbing in the side of the road while leaning against some drug store’s wall.  
   
I’m so tired.  
   
Lately, everything I do reminds me of how big a failure I am. I could disappear right now and probably nobody will notice. At least, nobody will care.  
   
I don’t know how long I stay there, my back and ass aching so badly that I have to sit on the floor halfway through my breakdown. Anyway I move my ass still hurts and the dried blood feels uncomfortable against my ass and thighs. The problem is that I need a bathroom to shower and mine is far away, everything hurts. It all hurts too much, I can’t deal with it anymore, I can’t.  
   
“Come on, sweetie, you can walk home, just a few more minutes and it will all be over,” I’m a waste of space. Maybe I can just stay out here and die.  
   
What feels like hours later, my phone rings, and when I look down at the screen, it’s mom. I swipe the red button, I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, questions are too hard. Talking is too hard.  
   
It rings again a few minutes later and I let it go to voicemail, hoping that she’ll get a hint and stop calling. I slowly get up, having to wait a couple of minutes until my head stopped spinning. I start limping towards the direction of my house and don’t get very far. The time I stayed sitting down only helped my body in having time to decide what the hell is hurting it so much and now everything hurts about a million times more than it did before.  
   
I slump against another wall again and just put my head on my knees. Why can’t everything be more simple? Why does this need to happen to me? Getting raped couldn’t have just happened to me once, could it? Is this even rape, I never technically said no since I if I did I’d get my photos leaked, doesn’t matter anymore, everyone will know soon anyways.  
   
I lift my sleeve and look down at my arms, why is my life so miserable? Why can’t I just be happy with who I am, why can’t I be normal? Everything is too painful.  
   
A couple of hours later, I’m still sitting down on the sidewalk. The sky is growing darker but I don’t care anymore, if someone kills me, good for me. I startle as a car’s horn sounds in front of me, but I don’t bother to look up as this has happened various times today already. I am sitting beside a road.   
   
The car horn sounds again, then proceeds to repeatedly sound. Do I need to kill someone?  
   
“Nixon!” My head snaps up at the sound of Francis’ voice shouting my name. Shit, he’s going to kill me, isn’t he?  
   
I scan my eyes and spot him a few meters in front of me, his slick black car reminding me that he probably has enough money to bribe the police force into ignoring the case of my dead body. Not that I care if he kills me, nor if he makes it painful, I deserve it anyways.  
   
I look at him warily, the idea of him smiling at me that nicely making me feel unsettled, it’s not normal to smile like that at your daughter’s ex-boyfriend.  
   
“Are you okay, Nix? Do you want me to drive you home?” Francis yelled loudly, his kind voice contrasting with the volume. It’s so weird. I shake my head at him, the thought of being trapped in a car for who knows how long with my ex-girlfriend’s father doesn’t seem very appealing to me. Francis looks at me weirdly before muttering something I didn’t catch and hardening his gaze.  
   
“Let me rephrase that, Nixon, get in, I’m taking you home,” his tone hardened and suddenly, he wasn’t the same nice-voiced man, he’s my uncle, demanding and taking.  
   
Before I realize what I’m doing, I stand up and start walking – limping – towards the parked car. I felt my face contort in pain as I walked, everything seemed to be different now, everything hurting more but less.  
   
I round the car and open the door, sitting down slowly. Francis (Mr. Kyle? Are we back to last names or…?) looks at me intensely and my brain – Cheshire – decides it’s a good time to remind me that the dude’s a psychiatrist.  
   
“So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sitting on the side of the road?” Mr. Kyle puts the car on drive and locks the doors. He probably sensed my intentions of jumping out and hopefully dying.   
   
“Uh…got tired,” I shrugged and looked out the window, knowing full well that Mr. Kyle’s always known how to snuff out the guilty faces. Plus, that really wasn’t a good excuse.  
   
“Uh huh, so you got tired walking back to your house and you decided…to sit by the road and cry?” I nodded slowly at his question, knowing full well that he wasn’t buying it. Problem is, I need him to buy it.  
   
“I don’t believe you,”  
   
“Boo fucking hoo, that’s the truth, what the hell do you want me to say?” I rolled my eyes defensively, the fuck is up with him? He’s nothing of mine to be questioning me like that.  
   
“Ok, Nixon…just trying to make sure you’re alright with everything that happened with you and Jamie. Jenny’s furious about it, but I’m not, kids break up all the time and it’s nothing to be ashamed of if you’re gay -,” the hell?  
   
“I’m not gay,” I didn’t mean for my voice to come out as defensive as it did. It just irks me how people suddenly assume I’m either gay or straight, bisexual people exist as well. I looked over at Mr. Kyle and saw a bashful look take over his featured before he took a deep breath and opened his mouth.  
   
“Ok, that doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with being gay, they’re just as valid,”  
   
“I know that, I’m bisexual so…” can’t hurt that much to come out to a person who’s understanding for a living.  
   
“Oh…okay, yeah, that’s good,” from then on, the conversation died. I caught Mr. Kyle looking at me nervously from my peripheral but I refused to acknowledge it. I don’t need his help, I don’t need anyone’s help.  
   
A few minutes later we arrived at my house, the sky now dark and clouded over. I opened the door and got off, muttering a quick “thank you” before walking over to the front door. Dad is going to kill me and then I’m going to kill me. Sounds like a good plan.  
   
Once inside, I limp over to my bedroom, thankful that my house has no stairs and that dad is not here. Once inside, I take my shit before walking over to the bathroom, the light turning one making me feel as if I were on crack or some other shit that I probably will never do.  
   
I get undressed and wince at the cracked and dried blood on the back of my thighs.   
   
“Talk about a walk of shame, sweetie, but it’s actually on your ex-girlfriend’s car,”  
   
‘Such a failure, am I right?’  
   
“Sweetie, he’s the biggest whore you’ll ever know,”  
   
‘Oh, yeah, I know, he’s so stupid, have you seen his grades?’  
   
“Sweetie, he used to be so useful, now it’s all just shit to feed the fish,” the conversation carried on all through my shower, the razor blade cutting into my skin roughly and comfortingly. It’s sting was like the mother’s caress I basically never have because I’m just a whore. The blood flowing making everything take an eerie red tinge, although maybe that’s just Cheshire next to me.  
   
I’m on the floor, the little specks of dried blood being dragged down the drain. I look down at the blood surrounding me and start crying. This was never supposed to happen, I was always supposed to take my life at 36, but I wasn’t supposed to be like this. I’m miserable.


	13. Madness in a dark star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen to 'Dark Star' by Jaymes Young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings  
>  \- Anxiety  
>  \- Plans of suicide  
>  \- Outing  
>  \- Self - harm  
>  \- Suicide attempt  
>  \- Very triggering chapter  
>  \- Proceed with caution  
>  \- overdose

School is a chore, everything is monotonous and dull. The whole system is a scam, nothing is real here, everything is just for money and bullshit degrees that’ll go obsolete in the next few years. Philosophers were once regarded higher than doctors, need more be said?  
   
Today is the day, everything will end today and the world will rotate like it’s meant to do. I’m an insignificant pebble in this world of gold and diamonds. The week has gone by in a blur, everything stopped making sense some point through Monday. Vix and Jamie don’t even look at me in the hallways and both changed their seats away from me in all the classes we had together. It’s fine, though, I don’t deserve them.   
   
Everyone feels so far away from me that I have no idea how to react to it, so I don’t. Everyone I know – used to – has stopped talking to me and I’m all alone, exactly what I didn’t want to be. I deserve it though, I was always meant to be alone.  
   
“You aren’t alone, sweetie.”  
   
“I wish I was.”  
   
“Do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class, Mr. Farely?” I looked to the front where Mrs. Math (I don’t know her name) was glaring at me. Everyone around me is staring with smirks on their faces and my breathing speeds up. Why are they all staring at me, why couldn’t the teacher just leave me be?! Why does everyone hate me, what did I ever do?   
   
“This class is bullshit,” I grab my bag and leave the classroom quickly. Anger seemed to surge inside me for three seconds and then leave, my breathing bordering on hyperventilation. Why do teachers always need to humiliate me? I already know I’m fucking stupid.  
   
She’ll probably call dad and he’ll scream at me, ad if I didn’t know that I’m a failure already. I aimlessly walk through the halls, eyes lazily jumping from wall to floor. There’s a heavy pull on my eyes, reminding me that I haven’t slept in days, Cheshire always making sure that she’s heard. I don’t know how long I wandered, but when I jumped back into my body the bell was ringing.   
   
Where I was leaning against the lockers I could see all the hungry monsters walking over to the cafeteria where they will divide themselves by clique. Slowly, I drift with the crowd, walking to the cafeteria and sitting down on a small table on the corner. I could see everyone from my little haven, popular kids sitting down on three of the round tables on the center, the theatre kids laughing loudly in the side. The majority of the soccer team, who are all probably high off their asses.   
   
I skipped my eyes over a section of the cafeteria, knowing that both Vix and Jamie are sitting there, probably laughing with each other and enjoying their home-packed lunches. Why am I so unlikeable? I always seem to be able to do something that fucks everything else up.   
   
I had a good relationship, Jamie and I were honestly the best thing that had ever happened in my life, but I fucked that up so badly that whenever I even look at her she’s glaring back. My best friend, who trusted me enough to tell me their deepest secret, I betrayed them and hit them on the spot I knew that would truly hurt. Vix…I’m so sorry. I never deserved them anyways, they’re too good.  
   
I take out my headphones and hit shuffle, ‘Are you with me now’ by Sixx:A.M. coming on. I sigh and put my head on my crossed arms, the thought of having to stay upwards and look at people doing things I’m not comfortable with anymore hurts me. I’m a human failure on every aspect.  
   
“Sweetie, they are looking at you,” my breath hitches and I peek over my arms, nobody is staring at me. Everyone is still socializing with each other. Nobody is looking at me. The sense of being watched prickles my senses from then on, my eyes darting from place to place.  
   
Somehow, I don’t notice the body that stomps towards me. My eyes are only closing again when someone pulls on my hair.   
   
“What the fuck?” I rip off one of my headphones and shoot a glare at whoever pulled on my hair. My glare quickly fades as I see Jamie and a bashful looking Vix behind her.  
   
“Exactly, Farely, what the fuck?!” Her voice makes my insides freeze into sharp weapons, “who the hell do you think you are, to fucking mis-gender Vix and have the oh so fucking great idea to refuse to call them by the name they chose because it makes them feel better, huh?!” Jamie crosses her arms and glares into my eyes, memories fighting to resurface. Cheshire cackling in the back.  
   
“I…-,” what can I say? Everything will be an excuse, in that moment, I intentionally hurt them because I wanted to be alone. I lowered my eyes and shook my head, any excuse that I give will be empty words and the truth is too horrible to say.  
   
“I’m waiting, Nixon,”  
   
“J, seriously, it’s fine-,” “No! Vix, he doesn’t deserve to treat you like that, okay? That was asshole-y of him and does not deserve your forgiveness, at all,” I take a deep breath and divert my eyes to the side. She’s right, I don’t deserve forgiveness from Vix, I’m an asshole, a stupid asshole.  
   
“J, in all honesty, I’m fine, let’s just go-,”   
   
“Vix, no, why are you being so forgiving? This motherfucker doesn’t deserve it.”  
   
Static fell over my ears as I noticed a commotion starting in the middle of the cafeteria, Kate in the center. What… I notice that Johnson is there too, his fuckboy smile on his face while facing my sister. Fifty nonexistent years of chain smoking suddenly catch up with me, breathing now too difficult to do. Johnson hasn’t called me since Sunday, when I did that stupid thing in his kitchen. Why did I do that? I was doing what I’d always done with him, fuck to get by. I was just fucking him, sure, it hurt more than normal but I didn’t need to do that thing. I’m so fucking stupid.  
   
His face bringing back the pain, the existence of Jamie and Vix beside me slip my mind. All I can see is Kate and Johnson screaming at each other in the middle of the cafeteria. Please, don’t…  
   
Suddenly, everything becomes silent, and the only thing that I hear is, “Oh don’t worry, Katelyn, I already fucked one of you, let me say, your brother had a very tight ass, wrapped around my dick real good,”  
   
My eyes widen as everyone simultaneously turn to look at me. How do I breathe? Fuck, no, no, no, NO!  
   
‘Now everyone knows, hahaHAHAHa’  
   
My heart pumps once, twice, and then everything crashes in. I jump from my seat and run away, pushing Jamie to the side and speed out of the cafeteria. The image of Katelyn’s hurt eyes enough to make me cry on my way out. Why did he tell everyone?! Why does nothing ever go my way? I only wanted to have a normal day for once, just once that I could smile sincerely.  
   
God damnit, I’m so pathetic.  
   
I speed up, everything blending round me. My feet pound on the floor and it’s starting to hurt, but I keep going. There is no way that I’ll be able to stay here after everything that’s happened. I push through the front doors and keep going, ignoring the security guard that screams at me as I just keep going. The wind whipping around me making me feel liberated but caged in. Everything’s become a cage, but I have space to run.   
   
I don’t know how much I ran, but when I couldn’t run anymore, I was in a park. I suddenly realize that I’m heaving – hyperventilating – and have to bend over and cough, the nausea washing over me like a tidal wave. Cold beads of sweat running down my even colder body.  
   
“Everyone knows what you really are, sweetie, everyone,” I clench my eyes shut and try to ignore her, but she’s everywhere. Why can’t she just stop talking and leave me alone for once? I just want some peace and -,  
   
“Quiet! Oh my god, please, shut UP!” I crumple to my knees on the floor and just cry, Cheshire still taunting me omnisciently. How does she even do that?   
   
“Come on sweetie, you’ve been a fuck up all your life, this is nothing new,” she’s right… I should just end it now and spare everyone my burden. Yeah…I should do that.  
   
“Oh, sweetie, I’m so proud of you, you’re doing the right thing for once,”  
   
   
I look down at the pills in my hands and sigh happily, I did it. I’m going to do it. I walk giddily over to the register and purchase them. The man giving me a weird look before shrugging and scanning them. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and walk out of the store. If he tried to stop me from buying them, I’m sure I would’ve freaked. Who’s he to take my happiness away from me? Nobody.  
   
“Just like you, sweetie,”  
   
“Fuck you, Cheshire,” I smile at the lady that furrows her brows at me and keep walking. She should go fuck herself, what I do is none of her business.

I bought some Advil PM, I Googled it and apparently I have to take a lot, but that’s fine, I just want the thing over with and done. I don’t care if it hurts, I just want out. 

I sit cross-legged on the floor, taking out my phone and opening my messaging app. I click on Jamie's, Vix's, and I's chat and stare at the small bar. I have to do this.

1:02pm  
Me: Hey, guys,  
I want you to know that no matter what you'll always be my best friends and I will always love you. Jamie, I want you to know that my love for you will never end and that I'm sorry for leaving you even though it was the only thing I could do so I didn't keep holding you back. You guys don’t get it yet, but you should understand that if I stayed with you, either of you, I'd have just been holding you back…I love you to much to do that to you. Right now, while I'm alive, I want you to know that everything I've done with you, and all the time I've spent with you both mean more than life to me. I'm sorry I'm doing this…not really, actually, I'm not sorry, because for once I'm being selfish and doing something towards my happiness. You'll get over it and have amazing lives, you were both always destined for greatness, something I'll never know. I know this is impromptu, but Cheshire finally got me to understand that this is what I have to do, this is all I have to do and all my pain will be over.

You're probably disgusted by me over what you found out about Dennis Johnson and me. I never wanted to have sex with him, he took pictures of my scars and cuts and threatened to mass text them, or publish them on the blog. I honestly don’t care what he does with the pictures anymore, the ones about my scars and the ones of me naked in his bed. He always threatened to make it hurt even more, but it already hurt so I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry I'm such a whore, a disgusting slut that doesn't deserve anything. I wish I could be better so I deserved you, but I don't, I'm just a disgusting piece of shit. I'm so sorry I can't be different, I miss you both so much, so please forgive me. I love you both. I'm hoping that when you read this I'll already be dead, or halfway there, so please don't call anybody about this, let me have this one thing even though I don't deserve to ask of you any favors. I hope you understand that I have to do this to be happy, I just need to be okay for once. I'm sorry.

I sent the long message and wiped my tears with my shirt, they'll understand, thy have to. I want to be happy for once in a long time, and hopefully this'll be it. No, this has to be it, this is my last chance.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, sweetie, you deserve happiness, this is why you should do this now, let's go, move,"

I look at the boxes of pills in my hands and smile, this is it. I get up and leave my phone on the bench, I won't need it anymore. Cheshire appears beside me and I smile at her, her sharp grin flashing my way kindly.

"Thank you, Cheshire,"

"You're welcome, sweetie, now let's go," I nod and start walking towards the alleys on the sides of the park where some of the buildings are. This'll do. I look up at a tall building that has around a good seven floors. 

The building looks like it was once prestigious, now decrepit with peeling paint and what is most likely all kinds of mold. I smile slightly, a light feeling blossoming in my chest, I'm so ready for this. Cheshire is beside me as I slip inside through the hole on the crystal door. I walk up the stairs, my mind blank from thoughts other than happiness.

"Yes, sweetie, start on the pills, it's okay, go on," I take a bunch, "Yes, you're so good, sweetie, so good,"

"I love you, Cheshire," I take a few more, my vision flickering, but I keep walking up the stairs. I open the other box, popping the pills out of the plastic and swallowing them bunch by bunch. My vision tunnels out, the only thins I can notice is the peeling paint on the walls and how the world seems to be floating around me.

Everything looks red and sinister. I smile as I reach the last floor, when my hand dips into the last plastic, I swallow the last pills and throw the boxes at the floors. My chest constricts from happiness, my body feeling lighter than ever. I walk (float?) over to the door that says 'KEEP OUT' in bright red letters and open it, another staircase greeting me. I giggled, is this building serious? Something flashes in the corner of my vision, black and blue, but I ignore it. Lately, there's been little friends from Cheshire coming to meet me, they're mostly cool.  
I take the stairs one by one, the world spinning, nausea crawling up and down my body. 

"Keep it in, sweetie," I snort from laughter.

"That sounds dirty, Cheshire, what you doin'?" I slur heavily and laugh even harder at that, my brain feeling stuffy and childish - can a brain feel childish? Is that possible?

I push through another door and almost get dropped on my ass from the heavy winds. I lean on the wall and keep walking forwards, the wind making me sway and stumble. I reach the ledge and fall to the roof's floor, my eyes closing and my whole body feeling too heavy but light. My mind drifts and images come to my mind. My first date with Jamie, when I first met Matt, when I first met Jamie, my first kiss with Jamie, my first kiss when I was a kid…Uncle Hector…Johnson…pain, blood, broken…

My eyes snap open and I get up to my knees, peeking over the edge. Something makes a sound behind me, but Cheshire screams at me to ignore it, "Just do it, sweetie, do it,"

So I do. I crawl forwards and throw my leg heavily over the ledge, the vertigo overtaking me making me want it to be over quicker.

'YES, SO IT,'

'THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT A DISGUSTING MOSTER LIKE YOU DESERVES,'

'KILL YOURSELF,'

'YOU SHOULD'VE DIED YEARS AGO - YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE EVEN BEEN BORN,'

'YOU WERE JUST A PAINFUL MISTAKE,'

"Please…shut up," I slur so badly that not even I understood myself clearly, but the voices just laughed at me.

I let out a sob and lean my head against the ledge, the gravel digging at my forehead. Please, shut up.

"JUMP, SWEETIE, FUCKING JUMP AND THEY'LL SHUT UP, JUMP," I drag my other leg over the ledge and push off.

Yes.


	14. Let me go and it'll be okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> \- Suicide attempt  
> \- Guilt  
> \- Descriptions of dead body  
> \- Gore  
> \- Blood  
> \- Angst  
> \- Alternative POV

He is not aware of the fact that tears are running down his face in heavy rivulets. The countenance of his face full of pain and sorrow; disquiet and relief. He stares unerringly forward, eyes fixated on what will become of him soon. His bloodshot eyes - once a vibrant blue, now a shuddering sadness - hold the million yard stare of a surviving soldier no longer living. His steps falter as he walks forward, the wind screaming at the top of the tall building threatening him. 

 

 

James Arden has been homeless for two years now. He moved to America on a dream and got left with a smashed rosary in his hand. He's traveled the whole land, stayed longer in some places than others, all depending on the ticket his dark skin bought him. His only companion is his dog, Jake, who's been following him since two weeks after he lost everything - it's been around a year now. 

Lately, James and Jake have been staying in a park he likes to say is beautiful. James's perception of "beautiful" has been warped in the last year, but this park is truly precious. It holds the innocence of a small child that smiles up to its mother at the store, asking for peanut butter. James loves art, street art was his specialty in his home country, moved to pursue a career in canvas-painting. James managed to scrape some money and buy himself a notebook and a pencils, the art of sketching now taking home in his heart. 

That's what he can be found doing today. At thirty-five years old, homeless, struggling artist, and hopeless. James is standing at the top of the most decrepit building he's seen in a while, the ugly face of it holding beautiful memories inside. 'Nothing can ever damage this sight,' he thinks with a content smile on his face, while sketching part of the roof and the beautiful park below, 'this place is perfect.'

The drawing is almost finished, the shadows expertly made with cheap pencils. Beautiful enough to make anyone wonder how this could not be enough to survive.

James closes his eyes for a second, the strong winds hitting his face and whipping his hair around. A door slams open, he startles. 

James squints as he sees a small body come through the door. The boy - he realizes - has black hair, darkness only rivaled by the night. At further inspection, he notices the blue eyes, electric and sharp once; now, dull and hazed. James purses his lips, watching as the boy stumbles through the roof with tears falling down his face.

"Boy!" 

James's eyes widen as he sees the boy keep walking closer and closer to the edge, his intent made obvious. Everything tunnels down for James, as he jumps up quickly and runs in the direction of the child that is about to lose his life if he doesn't do something.

"Stop!" 

James watches in horror as the boy reaches the edge and throws his leg around, the fact that he is not in his right - sober - mind obvious as he wobbles dangerously. Just as the kid goes to push off, James reaches him and grabs him. He throws him back into the roof and shakes as the boy starts screaming.

"STOP! JUST STOP! WHY CAN'T YOU SHUT UP?! WHY CAN'T I DIE ALREADY?! PLEASE!" The boy stands up and tilts dangerously to the side, but regains his footing. James notices that the boy's speech is slurred, his eyes darting around quickly, but his eyelids drooping dangerously.

"Kid, stop, this isn't the answer -," James doesn't get to finish.

"Just shut up! I want to die, they're screaming at me, I have to, I have to, I have to…" The kid lunges at him, feral and insane. James jumps to the side, the kid falls. Someone screams.

 

 

James is running, down the millions of stairs, eyesight blurry with millions of tears. 

"Oh my god, the kid fell, he fell, I couldn't save him, I'm so sorry, God, please, save him, please save him…" James continues preaching as he runs, bursting out of the building and reaching the kid, the sight of him making him throw up. The kid looked wrong his arms at bent wrong angles, his left leg bent a few more places that is not the knee. His skull is cracked, blood accumulating on the floor, tainting everything with its powerfulness. James was afraid of looking at the face, the beautiful eyes he saw a few minutes ago scaring him. 

James looks, and wishes he hadn't. He falls to the floor and screams again.

The boy's mouth is open, his white teeth covered with blood and foaming substance. His hair is strewn everywhere, making his pale face look even paler. Eyes. The eyes are empty, staring upwards at the darkening sky, but not seeing - they will never see again. James's heart breaks into shards, his hands picking at the ground making him bleed. Such a beautiful being shouldn't have had this fate. A bright future has just been dimmed.

James cries, cries at the unfairness the world has dealt this beautiful boy who craved escape so badly he took it into his own hands. Cries at the last words the boy said, filled with so much emotion and passion that it made him ache just at the thought of the pain the boy had went through. He cries at the eyes, the beautiful unusual eyes in the beautiful Asian boy who's name he doesn't even know, but he knows enough. He cries, cries for hours until someone screams and voices can be heard next to him, his own body in shock at the image that will never leave his brain.


	15. I'm not sorry that I'm happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS;  
> -Death  
> -Future  
> -Prologue-like  
> -Sad  
> _Angst  
> -No happy ending  
> -Read tags

"Nixon Farely was found dead, there was nothing we could do,"

"B-But…couldn't you like, shock him? Make him come back? Please? Please bring my son back, please," Jose Farely falls to his knees. Katelyn Farely looks at the floor shocked at the news of her baby brother, who she saw mere hours ago. It has to be a lie, it can't be true.

"D-dead?" the word comes out as a whisper, the through of saying it too loud making it feel too real.

The doctor's mouth starts moving, the only words that pass through the static barrier of the family are "death", "suicide" "overdose", "jump", and "too late".

"D-dead?"

 

 

The funeral was the worst thing to ever happen in history. Vix cries, Jamie cries and screams, she has a break down. The man they all got introduced to, James Arden, weeps quietly in the corner, a dark notebook clutched tightly to his chest. Unknow to the family, holding sketches of the boy in his last moments, the dark story of a strong warrior. Elizabeth doesn't react, she doesn't believe it. Denial grabs tightly at Elizabeth Farely, four year later she will be admitted in a psychiatric hospital for a suicide attempt, and delusions.

The family will never be the same, Jose does all he can to help Katelyn, rejecting the thought of his drinking being a problem. Two years after Katelyn graduates from her last year in university, hi is attested for murder of Hector Farely, the man he blames for all of his son's sorrows. Katelyn slowly forgets, drinks every night to drown her tears, but she finds a beautiful man to spend the rest of her life with. When her first daughter is seventeen, she mentions that she thinks she's hearing things - Katelyn doesn't stop crying for weeks. Her daughter is diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, she's on medication and she's better, she's better.

Dennis Johnson is arrested and let out ten years later. The pictures on his phone "not incriminating enough" for a life sentence. He goes in again three years later for raping an eleven year old girl, this one doesn't commit suicide, she lives a complete life. He finally gets what he deserves. 

James Arden enters an art institute, manages to sell hundreds of paintings. He buys his own apartment and opens his own studio. His prime masterpiece, "The boy with the starry eyes of the unseeing" a collection of three sketches and two paintings, he gifts to Katelyn. She cries. James goes every day to Nixon Farely's grave and leaves a flower with a sketch. The images of the boy's broken body never leave his nightmare's, his last words are forever ingrained in his mind. He cries for the innocence lost every day. He dies putting a flower - Cornflowers - on the boy's colorful grave of assorted blues. James never finds the same blue as the boy's eyes.

Jamie prints out a picture of Nixon's suicide note and reads it every night, takes his forgiveness to heart and soon lives. She never marries, but she becomes a psychiatrist just like her father and dedicates her life to helping people. She cries when Elizabeth commits suicide, it brings her back, she drinks.

Vix Ivanov goes to Germany and never comes back, they never contact anyone again. They decide this is what they need to be okay…it works.

All of them get different futures, already one step forward than what Nixon got. They're not guilty for his death, nobody is guilty for another person's death except for themselves. Some understand, others don't, but everyone does something different. For the good or the better, nobody will know for certain, it's objective. 

Nixon Farely  
Cause of death: suicide  
(Schizophrenic, Depressed) - not adjectives  
Dimmed match  
Good person  
Deserved much better  
Didn't get what he deserved, the world is never fair, so don't expect it to be.


End file.
